


Dark Water

by dreamsofspike



Series: Best of Intentions Series [2]
Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story begins where "Best of Intentions" left off. Adam has just been devastated by a brutal sexual attack. He's determined to keep his secret from his friends, but it's gradually tearing him apart. As they begin to notice that something is wrong, Adam struggles with the weight of his decision, and what's been done to him. Will someone manage to get through to him before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: this fic references recent past non-con and graphic violence

He had no idea how long he lay there, staring into space, shivering but not with cold – trying not to process what had happened. Slowly, however, the pain began to seep through, forcing his thoughts toward what they most wanted to avoid. His wide, shell-shocked eyes came into focus on the blood-stained sheets beneath him, and he blinked, swallowing back the wave of nausea that swept over him at the sight.

_Have to get up… can’t stay here. This is where… where_ it… _happened…_

He tried to stand up – and then immediately collapsed back onto the bed, his breath stolen by the sharp, shooting agony that tore through his body. He struggled to catch his breath, fighting back tears, before finally trying again. He couldn’t stand to be in that bed anymore, where his entire life had just been torn to shreds in the space of a few minutes.

He felt empty… sick… filthy.

_Just need to… to get to the shower… wash it away…_

But once he managed to get to his feet, he froze, his stomach lurching with fear as he remembered – he wasn’t in his own room.

_Can’t stay here… he might come back… have to… to _go_… somewhere…_

He adjusted his clothes, pulling up his jeans and fastening them, wincing at the pain it caused. He could feel the sick, wet heat of blood seeping into them from his torn flesh, and knew that he would have to throw them away.

It didn’t matter.

He’d never want to wear them again, anyway.

Once he had adjusted to standing, he stripped the bloodied sheets off the bed.

_Can’t leave them here, for anyone to find. Can’t… can’t let anyone find out…_

He picked up his jacket from where it lay neatly across the back of a chair, carrying it over his arm rather than trying to put it on – but first, he took the key card to his own room from the inside pocket. His heart was racing, on the verge of panic as he opened the door and looked out into the hall, half-expecting to find his attacker still waiting in the hallway – but the hall was deserted.

He let out a shaky sigh of relief as he limped slowly, painfully down the hall toward his own room. Only once the door closed behind him did he allow himself to relax a little, leaning against the door and trying to catch his breath. The pain was overwhelming – searing, tearing, like a hot knife stabbing into him with every movement – and it was only sheer necessity that kept him moving.

He had to make sure that no one ever knew what had happened.

He rolled the ruined sheets under his arm into as tight a ball as he could manage, then put them in the trash can under the sink. He would take that trash out a little later, when he was feeling better – when he felt like he could even _walk_ without each step feeling like it was tearing his insides out.

_Shower… just need to get clean, and I’ll be… it’ll be…_

He couldn’t deceive himself into thinking that it would _ever_ be okay again – but it would be _better_, once he had washed away the lingering scent and feel of strong, brutal hands, grasping and breaking and pinning him down. It would be better.

_It _has _to be…_

The hot water made him draw in his breath in a sharp hiss of pain – but he forced himself to take several slow, deep breaths, inhaling the fragrant steam and trying to allow it to soothe his frayed nerves and traumatized mind. The sting of the water against his broken skin hurt – but it felt good, too – like he was somehow undoing what had been done to him.

_Just… have to get clean…_

But it didn’t work.

He stayed under the heated spray for nearly an hour, his tears mingling with the rivulets that ran down from his hair over his face, waiting to feel a sense of release – to feel clean and whole again – but it didn’t happen. Finally, when the water began to grow cool, he reached down to turn it off with a trembling hand, then painfully straightened and, with an effort, climbed out of the shower. He wrapped a clean white towel around his waist, picking up another to dry his face and hair – putting off any actual examination of his injuries as long as possible.

Finally, when there was nothing else to do, he turned his back to the mirror with a grimace of pain, preparing to lower the towel and try to see how bad it was – but he froze, his eyes widening with alarm, before he could even take the towel down. The stark white of the towel was in sharp contrast to the deep red stain that had soaked into it, in just the few short minutes it had taken him to dry his upper body.

_Still bleeding… _

_That… can’t be good…_

He felt sick with the sudden realization that he was hurt worse than he’d realized, and was going to need medical care. His legs abruptly went weak beneath him, and he caught himself on the edge of the sink, biting down on his lip until he tasted blood, to hold back the anguished cry that tore his throat.

_Careful… hold it together… anybody hears you scream like that and this won’t be a secret for long…_

He tried to straighten up, hot tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as he found that even that slight motion was agonizing.

_Oh, God… I can’t even_ move… _but I can’t let people know about this..._

_What am I going to _do?

He nearly cried with relief when he finally reached the bed again, falling awkwardly onto his stomach and taking comfort in the cool softness of the pillow beneath his cheek. Unbidden, a sense memory filled his mind, of his face being pressed against an identical pillow in an identical room, but with violent force, holding his head down until he couldn’t breathe.

_No… no, don’t… please don’t…_

But it was already done – and none of his panicked mental pleas or attempts to pretend could undo it.

He raised his head, staring with dread at the phone on the bedside table, before finally reaching for the receiver and dialing the extension of a room down the hall – the room where the Idol tour’s public relations agent was staying.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um…” He frowned, closing his eyes, his mind too hazy with the panic of what he was about to have to do to even remember the right name. “… uh… A-Amy?”

“Yes?” He could hear the confusion and uncertainty in the young woman’s voice.

“Th-this is Adam,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and small, unrecognizable as his own, breaking over his quiet, pleading admission. “I… I need help.”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, let me make sure I’ve got this straight.”

The disapproval was clear in Amy’s terse tone, and Adam found that he couldn’t raise his eyes to look at her as she sat in the chair across from his bed, eyeing him with suspicion.  He was sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, wearing a soft, loose-fitting pair of pajama pants and a plain black t-shirt, a towel stuffed down the back of his pants both for padding, and to avoid staining his clothing.

His mouth was dry, his heart racing, panicked at the very real possibility that she might see through his story.

“You sneaked down to the hotel bar… by yourself, without any security or anything… hooked up with some random stranger and _brought him back to your room_…” Her voice was incredulous, tinged with disgust at what she had to think was his utter stupidity, and Adam’s face flushed with shame, although he knew he hadn’t been so foolish as he had to make her believe. “… then had a rough… but _consensual_… sexual encounter with this _random stranger_… and now… you need medical attention?”

Adam’s face was flushed with shame, and he stared down at the mattress on which he was sitting, picking nervously at the surface of the sheet. He swallowed hard, nodding, unable to bring himself to speak at the moment.

Amy sighed, covering her face with one hand for a moment before shaking her head and taking out her phone. “Well, they gave me a couple of numbers for doctors in the area, just in case. I can call someone and have them come over and check you out. No one would ever have to know…”

Adam hesitated, cringing inwardly even as he opened his mouth to voice his tentative protest. “I, uh… I don’t think… that’s gonna be good enough.”

Amy froze, her phone halfway to her ear, her eyes wide with alarm. “What do you mean, not good enough? What are you talking about?”

“I think, um… I think I might need… stitches or something. I… I think I need to get to a… a hospital,” Adam confessed, his voice carefully low and controlled to disguise the panic barely buried just beneath the surface of his tone. “I know that’s… a little harder, but… I… I’m still… bleeding, and…”

“Shit.” Amy whispered under her breath, staring at him through wide, horrified eyes as she rose to her feet and swiftly dialed a number, then held the phone up to her ear, covering the receiver for a moment to speak to Adam. Her voice carried a note of resentment, but it did not disguise the very real fear beneath her anger. “Ditching security and going down to the bar _by_ _yourself_, in the middle of the night – you’re lucky nothing _worse_ happened, Adam.” She turned away, shaking her head and adding in a disgusted whisper, “Think you’re a fuckin’ rock star already, well you’re _not_ – and you can only get away with so much of this _shit_!”

Adam flinched slightly at the harsh, accusing words, closing his eyes momentarily as he tried not to think about the false assumptions she was making about him right then – how stupid and careless she must think he was, for doing what he’d had no choice but to tell her he’d done.

_If you hadn’t been so reckless… hadn’t placed yourself in danger to begin with… then this never would have happened…_ __

His attacker’s words echoed in his mind, and Adam shuddered, feeling an overwhelming wave of nausea come over him at the memory. The nausea was swiftly followed by a rush of anger and resentment at the injustice of the accusations against him – both by his attacker, and now, by the Idol tour publicist.

_I didn’t ask him to interfere at the bar. I didn’t ask him to help me back to my room. And I_ damn _sure didn’t ask him to… to undress me and… and… attack me and…___

“I do not get paid enough to _deal_ with this shit!” Amy continued, seething quietly as she waited on hold. “’Easy gig, babysitting the baby pop stars,’ they said. ’Not as much trouble as he looks like’, they told me…”

Adam glared up at Amy in resentful defiance, his jaw set stubbornly to hide the slight quaver he couldn’t quite control. There was only a faint tremor in his voice as he softly retorted, blue eyes blazing into hers in challenge.

“Looks like they lied.”

Amy’s eyes widened in disbelief at his nerve, and she abruptly snapped the phone shut, stalking across the room to stand directly in front of him, leaning down into his face and crossing her arms over her chest indignantly.

“You listen to _me_, you spoiled, self-important idiot,” she snapped. “You could have been _killed_! You could have been dragged off somewhere where we’d never have found you, and had _God_ knows what done to you, just because _you_ felt like sneaking off and having a good time!”

Adam swallowed hard, looking away, his jaw working with stubbornly restrained emotion as he struggled not to show any reaction to her words.

“Now I’ve got to figure out a way to get you to the hospital and treated without anyone seeing you leave or anyone finding out about it, or I’m going to be facing a PR _nightmare_ in the morning! If you’re _really_ hurt and they have to admit you, I will be anyway!” Amy continued, backing off a little in order to continue her agitated pacing. She glanced down at her watch, swearing under her breath. “Shit. It _is_ morning already.” She stopped, shaking her head as she raised one hand to cover her face again, letting out a slow, unsteady breath before finally looking up at Adam again in weary resignation. “I can have a car here in thirty minutes, and we can get you into the hospital incognito – and once you’re in, any details of your treatment are legally protected by privacy laws. But Adam, if I’m going to help you, I need you to _swear_ to me that you are not going to do anything this _stupid_ again!”

Adam remained silent, his breath quickening and his chest burning with the frustration of holding back what he _really_ thought and felt in that moment. He couldn’t tell her the truth – but not telling her meant accepting the blame onto his own shoulders, and being made to look like the foolish, reckless wanna-be rock star Amy now seemed to think he was.

_And… maybe it _was _my fault. Maybe… if I’d watched my drink… if I hadn’t let that guy pull one over on me… then he would never have touched me, and I would have spent the night safe in my own room, and not… not…___

_If only I’d been more careful…_ __

“Adam? _Adam_!”

Adam shook himself out of his troubled thoughts, glancing up at Amy for a moment before looking away again.

“Tell me you’re not going to do anything like this again,” she insisted, her words slow and deliberate to the point of being patronizing.

Adam was quiet for a moment, considering, wrestling with the weight of his confusion and shame, and the anger that he didn’t know where to aim. At last he looked up at her, eyes glittering with defiant tears that he refused to let fall, as he masked his emotions with a smirk and a careless shrug.

“Can’t make any promises,” he sneered softly.

“Adam, I’m not helping you unless you…”

“What other choice do you have?” he cut her off in a hard voice with a warning edge to it. “It’s not like you can just leave me to bleed to death all over this hotel room. Do that, and you’ll end up with a PR nightmare of a much more _personal _variety.” He paused, holding her gaze with quiet rage smoldering in his own as he concluded softly, “If this gets out, it sucks as much for you as it does for me. You can’t _not_ help me.”

Amy glared at him for a moment in helpless, sputtering outrage, before kicking the edge of the bed in frustration and taking out her phone again, punching in the numbers for the second time, with enough force that Adam thought she might break it. As she held the phone to her ear again, she shook her head, pacing back and forth and casting the occasional murderous glare in his direction.

“This is the _last time_,” she muttered, seething. “I am sick to death of dealing with you petulant, no-talent wannabes, all looking for your fifteen minutes. When this tour is over, I am _through_! I’m turning in my resignation, because I will _not_ be used and talked down to and treated like…”

At that point Adam began to tune her out, closing his eyes and leaning cautiously back against the head board. Now that he knew he was going to get help – and without having to reveal his shameful secret – the physical pain came flooding back, no longer overwhelmed by urgency. He found that he couldn’t leave his eyes closed for long, though, as his mind instantly flooded with the nightmare images of what he’d just endured. He wrapped his arms around his torso, squeezing tightly – trying to hold in the fine tremors that began to shake through his body with the dark memories, and hoping desperately that Amy didn’t notice.

She didn’t.

She was too focused on her phone call – on taking care of the needs of the soon-to-be star that she now believed was a selfish, spoiled brat who cared about nothing more than his own impulsive desires.

And Adam was glad to let her think that.

It was far better than allowing her – or anyone else – to find out the truth.

***********************************************

They asked him so many questions that he quickly lost count – and many of those questions, they asked him over and over again, as if hoping to receive a different answer the second, third, or fourth time around.

Adam made sure that his story didn’t waver.

He’d met a stranger at the bar – flirted a little, shared a drink or two.

That much was true, but that was as far as the truth went in Adam’s story.

A night of reckless but consensual rough sex would have been nothing compared to what had really happened – but no one could ever know about that.

“What about that bruise under your eye?” the nurse asked him, suspicion clear in her concerned eyes and troubled tone. “Hitting you in the face a part of your little game, too?”

“That was an accident,” Adam lied smoothly. “Got a little carried away – both of us. Ended up with my cheek hitting the head board at one point, that’s all.”

As it turned out, the doctors told him that the damage wasn’t really all that bad. He needed a couple of stitches, but that was all. The bruises across his face, his ribcage, his thighs, would all heal on their own, and the stitches were designed to eventually be absorbed into his body, so there would be no need for him to stay around for further treatment.

“But I do recommend that you see your own personal doctor as soon as you have the chance, Mr. Lambert,” the ER doctor on call advised him sternly. “Just to make sure everything is healing properly.”

Adam had no intention of talking to his regular doctor – or anyone else – about this, ever again.

Still, he nodded, giving the man a smile that he hoped was reassuring of his good intentions.

“Be careful when you’re performing,” the doctor instructed. “You might want to avoid any stretching motions that might aggravate your injuries, at least for a couple of weeks. I’ve had our in-house pharmacy prepare you a prescription for some pain medication, and hopefully that will keep any discomfort to a minimum until you’ve healed.”

Adam turned the tiny orange bottle around and around in his hand, staring through the clear plastic to the white pills it contained, and wondering how many of those pills it would take to stop his tormented thoughts, the physical, emotional, and mental anguish, once and for all.

It was nearly five in the morning when Amy drove him back to the hotel room. They sat in tense silence for most of the ride, Adam trying to keep his emotions at bay, though his control was swiftly fading in response to his exhaustion.  As she parked the car in the parking lot, Amy let out a heavy sigh, turning slightly in her seat to look at him.

“No one will know about this except me and you,” she assured him in a quiet, weary voice. “The hospital staff we dealt with aren’t allowed to say anything. As long as neither of us says anything about tonight, you don’t have to worry about your reputation, and I don’t have to worry about my job.  We’re _both _safe. So… this can just be… our secret.”

Adam couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bring himself to respond, but the words sent a sick little shiver down his spine – because he knew that it wasn’t just his own secret that he would be keeping.

_This means he’s going to get away with it,_ a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind. _This means… you’ll still have to see him every day… ride with him on the bus… worry about how easily he might be able to get a key to your room, if he really wanted to…___

_Can’t show any concern, because you can’t let anyone know…_ __

Exhausted and in pain, Adam barely managed to make his way up the stairs to his floor – but he had no choice, in order to avoid the guards posted at the elevators, and the questions they would inevitably have if they saw him. He knew if it wasn’t for the pain medication that had kicked in during the drive back to the hotel, he wouldn’t have been able to make it at all.

As it was, it took him nearly thirty minutes just to get up the stairs.

Finally, weary and aching both in body and mind, Adam slipped silently, gratefully, through the door of his own room. He lay down on the bed, closing his eyes and trying to sleep – but his every thought was plagued by the hellish events of the night, and he found that he couldn’t rest.

Two hours later when he received his wake-up call, alerting him that it was time for the Idols to gather and board the buses to move on to the next stop on the tour, Adam hadn’t slept a single moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Adam gathered what few things he had actually unpacked, moving stiffly and painfully as he placed them into his open duffel bag and prepared to board the bus. He’d taken one of the pain pills the doctor had prescribed him at the hospital just before going to sleep, but it had all but worn off completely by now, so he took another before shouldering his bag and heading toward the door.

He tried not to think about the events of the night before, tried to close his mind to the vivid images ever present at the edges of his memory. Mercifully, his state of exhaustion made that surprisingly easy – and within a few minutes, when the medicine began to kick in, it was even easier.. His mind felt dulled, empty – too weary and hazy to process a coherent thought at all.

He only wished his aching, violated body could be so numbed; but gradually, the pill began to do its job, and by the time he reached the lobby – by way of the elevators this time, thankfully – the pain was a dull ache in the back of his mind, rather than the screaming, searing agony it had been a few minutes earlier.

_Not so bad. I can handle this. It doesn’t hurt much, and if I can just sleep for a while…_ __

As he approached the buses, however, Adam froze in his tracks, his stomach lurching dangerously, his pulse accelerating as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. Suddenly, he was aware of nothing around him except for the man boarding the boys’ bus, a few yards away.

The man who had raped him.

Adam’s heart raced, and he swallowed hard, the motion painful in his suddenly very dry mouth, as he struggled to fight back the panicked impulse to flee back into the hotel..

_You have to do this – have to just get on that bus, even though he’s there. _ __

_You can’t let anyone find out…_ __

From behind him, someone bumped into his shoulder, and Adam jumped as he spun to face Kris, who had stopped to adjust his bag on his shoulder and now faced him with an apologetic grimace. Across the parking lot, Adam could see Katy’s car pulling out of the parking lot, and realized that she must have been the distraction that had kept Kris from noticing him.

_Not like _that’s _anything new…___

“Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to bowl you over.”

“I-it’s okay,” Adam replied distractedly, his gaze returning to the doorway to the bus – now empty, as his attacker had already boarded. “No problem.”

“Well, you coming or not?” Kris prodded good-naturedly, nodding toward the bus.

“Yeah. Just… just a minute. I’ll be right there,” Adam assured him.

But as soon as Kris disappeared onto the bus, Adam hurriedly made his way toward the other bus, the one the girls would be riding. The door was shut, as the girls were already all on board. He knocked lightly, swallowing hard and forcing a smile to his lips as Lil opened the door, a look of curious amusement on her face when she saw him standing there.

“We’re about to pull out in a minute,” she warned him. “What you need, baby?”

“I… um…” Adam hesitated, uncertain what reason he could offer for his unusual request. “You guys mind if I… ride over here for a little while? The guys’ bus… it gets pretty nasty over there. And you guys have some extra room. Do you mind?”

“Get on up here.” Allison beckoned him forward with a pleased grin over Lil’s shoulder. “It’ll be fun.”

Adam wasn’t aiming so much for “fun” at this point as simply “not mind-numbingly terrifying” – but he was just glad to be allowed a brief reprieve from having to face his attacker again. He wasn’t fooling himself into thinking that he could avoid the boys’ bus for the rest of the tour – but he had managed to avoid it _for now_… and for now, that would have to do.

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Adam informed the girls as the bus started to pull out of the parking lot. “Mind if I borrow somebody’s bunk? I’d like to take a little nap.”

“Take mine,” Megan offered with a slight shrug, rising from her seat and bracing her hand gently on his shoulder as she made her way to the coffee thermos and carefully poured herself a cup. “I won’t be needing it for a while.”

Adam made his way on trembling, unsteady legs toward the back of the bus, ignoring Allison’s worried, questioning voice following him down the hall. He winced, biting back the sharp cry of pain that rose to his lips as he slowly, awkwardly lowered himself onto Megan’s lower level bunk. He let out a tremulous sigh of relief as he reached to pull the curtain closed, turning his face toward the wall and closing his eyes to try to sleep.

But sleep still eluded him.

Adam tried not to think about what had happened – tried not to think at all. The pain pill he’d taken made his thoughts blessedly hazy and sleepy, but a heavy sense of dread lingered in the back of his mind, warning him to remain on his guard, or something bad would happen again.

_You’re on the girls’ bus. No guys allowed._ __

_Except… they let_ you _on. What if you go to sleep, and they stop, and he gets on this bus to talk to the girls? What if he decides it’s too risky to let you live, knowing what he did? What if he comes back here while you’re sleeping and…___

The thought was enough to make his stomach lurch dangerously, and Adam yanked back the curtain again, stumbling out of the bunk and down the hall to the tiny bathroom. He would have been more careful as he knelt down, but the motion of the bus rocked him forward, off balance, and he fell hard onto his knees.

The searing wave of agony that shot through him on impact was all the encouragement his stomach needed to empty its meager contents into the dry toilet bowl. Adam’s trembling hands gripped the sides of the seat as he threw up until there was nothing left to throw up – and then threw up some more. He felt light-headed and dizzy, the concerned voices of the girls sounding more distant than they should have as they hurried down the hall toward him.

Adam was shaking violently, feeling as if he might black out, when he felt a soft, cautious hand on his shoulder, and Allie’s warm, familiar voice spoke from a crouched position directly behind him.

“Adam? You okay? What’s wrong, are you sick?”

“Obviously he’s _sick_,” Megan pointed out dryly. Her tone was good-naturedly teasing as she added, “Nice of you to bring your germs over _here_ instead of sharing them with the other boys. Should we feel special?” She paused a moment before remembering, “And you’re borrowing my bunk. Guess I should feel special-est of all!”

Lil crouched down beside Allison, on Adam’s other side, reaching out a hand to rub his back in a motherly, soothing manner. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” she crooned soothingly. “Breakfast didn’t agree with you?”

Adam knew they meant well, but he suddenly felt overwhelmingly crowded, as if he was surrounded by them on all sides, despite the fact that they could only get as far as the doorway of the tiny bathroom. His heart pounded in his chest with impending panic, and suddenly all he could think about was _escape_. His damp, shaking palms slid against the white plastic of the toilet seat as he tried to shift out from under Lil’s comforting hand. His voice was weak and shaky, barely over a hoarse whisper, but still came out harsher than he really intended.

“Could you guys just… just back the fuck off? _Please_. I… I just need… please, just leave me alone.”

An awkward silence fell over the girls for a moment before Megan finally broke it, clearing her throat.

“Sure, no problem, Adam. I hate being stared at when I’m feeling all pukey, too. Come on, guys, let’s go back up front and let him pull himself together.”

Allison lingered a few seconds longer than the others, and although his back was turned to her, Adam could feel the hurt and confusion emanating off of her as she slowly rose to her feet and reluctantly followed the older girls down the hall.

A little too late for them to actually hear it, Adam offered a weak, half-hearted, “Thanks,” before bowing his head over the toilet again.

Thankfully, his stomach seemed to be settling a little. He stayed there a few minutes, breathing in shallow, steady draughts of cool air and struggling to regain control of his racing heart and panicked, half-formed thoughts. When he was sure that he wasn’t going to vomit anymore, Adam tried to get up – but found with a sinking heart that it was far more difficult getting off his knees on the floor than it had been getting out of Megan’s bed.

The medication he was on seemed to keep the pain at bay when he wasn’t moving too much, and made simple tasks like walking and sitting bearable; but more complicated, difficult movements that strained his torn flesh and pulled at the fresh stitches were still enough to overwhelm him with agony.

He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy.

Adam closed his eyes, steeling himself for the pain, before bracing his hand on the edge of the shower stall and pushing down. Bright, searing pain sent an electric shock of agony through him, and white sparks of light exploded behind his eyes as he forced himself to his feet – pain so severe that he thought for a moment it might send him back to the floor again.

After a few moments, however, it began to fade back to a level that was bearable, and he took the few steps necessary to reach the sink and pour himself a cup of water to rinse his mouth. He glanced up toward the front of the bus, but the girls didn’t seem to be paying him much attention, so he slipped the orange bottle of pain pills from his pocket and took another one.

_Last one’s gone_ now, _that’s for sure…___

Then he moved painfully, gingerly back toward Megan’s bunk, where he collapsed awkwardly onto his stomach, drawing the curtain closed once more.

He could hear their voices down the hall – too hushed and muffled by the curtain for him to make out the words, but he knew they were probably talking about him.

He couldn’t really bring himself to care.

At last, sheer exhaustion aided by the powerful pills he had taken drove Adam into a restless, fitful sleep filled with dark, twisted visions and nightmare memories of the night before.

**********************************************

That night, Adam hid in the dressing room that had been provided for him as long as possible before going out to do his set. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to see any of the others perform – didn’t want to be there at all.

But he didn’t exactly have a choice.

He popped another pain pill – his fifth that day – at 8:42pm, just before heading to the backstage area where he was to wait for Danny to finish his set. By the time he finished at 8:57pm, Adam was feeling pleasantly numb, his troubled thoughts dulled by the medication from panicked words to mere vague feelings and impressions, and the ache in his body pressed down to nothing more than a minor presence in the back of his thoughts.

_I can do this,_ he reassured himself as he finished his makeup in the mirror, doing his best to conceal the dark, sleepless shadows under his eyes. _I just have to be careful… can’t dance as much as usual, but… but I can pull this off…___

He made his way out onto the stage like he did every night – every movement automatic, memorized. He no longer had to think about where he was going to go when, and what gestures and motions accompanied what lines of each song.

Except, tonight – he did have to think about it.

Adam kept his dancing to a minimum, singing the lines to his songs without thinking about them, going through the motions without really _feeling _any of it. The adoring crowd didn’t seem to notice, screaming and cheering and shouting out his name as he concluded his last number and headed backstage again.

Adam supposed that he should be grateful that they hadn’t noticed anything off, that they felt they’d gotten their money’s worth, in spite of his pitifully weak performance. Instead of relief, however, Adam felt a cold, empty sensation in the pit of his stomach – a vague sense of despair and disappointment.

_No one can see it – not from down there in the audience, so far away. They don’t have any idea what’s happened… how… how dirty and damaged and_ ruined _you are. Shouldn’t be surprised, though…___

Adam faked a bright smile as Kris clapped him on the back and gave him a wink before heading onto the little platform under the stage that would carry them up for the finale.

_… no one seems to be able to see it up close, either._ __

There was no hotel to stay in that night. Instead, they were all to board the buses and hit the road immediately, headed for the next town.

Adam was met at the door to the girls’ bus by a stern handler, a little older than Amy – and firmly turned away.

His stomach felt weak again as he reluctantly boarded the boys’ bus, his legs feeling heavy and leaden, his entire body shaking and sick with fear. He went directly to his bunk – but then realized with dismay that it would be next to impossible for him to get onto it.

Kris reached him just as he was discovering this dilemma, and sat down on the edge of his own bunk, pulling off his shoes and smoothing out the bedding. “Hey, man,” he greeted him with a warm smile. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Adam muttered a distracted answer, staring at the upper bunk he’d so glibly claimed and cursing his choice – blinking back tears of frustrated despair and willing himself not to fall apart. Kris frowned, clearly not believing him, and stood up, bringing himself closer to Adam and lowering his voice to a soft, private tone.

“You all right, Adam? What’s going on?”

“I, uh… I’m just…” Adam swallowed hard, nearly undone by the gentleness and concern in Kris’s voice. He shook his head slightly, struggling for control, as he forced out an answer. “I’m… not feeling too good, that’s all. My… my stomach…” He looked up suddenly, an idea occurring to him. “I’ve been throwing up all day. I might have to get up really suddenly in the middle of the night. Would you mind… um… switching bunks with me? Just for tonight?”

“Nah, no problem,” Kris assured him with a shrug and a grin. “It’s not like whatever germs you’ve got I haven’t caught already.”

“Thanks.”

Adam lay down on Kris’s bunk, pulling the blankets up over him and pulling the curtain closed, trying not to think about the fact that his rapist would soon be boarding the very same bus, and sleeping mere yards away from him. The thought was enough to make him feel sick again, and he swallowed back a fresh wave of nausea, struggling to put the thought out of his mind.

_He wouldn’t try anything… not here, on the bus… not in front of all the others…_ __

“Hey, Adam?”

Adam jumped slightly at the whisper, much closer than he’d anticipated, and stared up with wide eyes at Kris’s face, peering over the edge of the bunk and through the crack in the curtain he’d just opened a little.

“Yeah?” he whispered, once he’d regained his composure.

Kris studied his face for a moment, biting the corner of his lower lip before finally venturing, “You know… if you need to talk about something… you can talk to me, all right? About anything.”

Adam forced a smirk to his lips, rolling his eyes. “Of course, but there’s nothing to talk about. Unless you want the details of my vomit…”

“No thanks!” Kris laughed, and his face disappeared, the curtain closed once more. Kris’s voice was slightly muffled from above Adam’s head as he added, “Good night, Adam.”

Adam didn’t bother to respond.

He didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him. He didn’t want to talk about anything, to anyone – ever again, if he could help it.

Because nothing anyone had to say seemed to matter anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

When Adam asked to borrow Kris’s bunk again the following night, Kris didn’t ask why, and Adam tried not to think about why he might not ask – what subtle signs of weakness or fragility he might have shown to make Kris decide that it was better to simply give over his bunk without asking questions. He tried to just be grateful for small mercies, and the thought that Kris might not ask again the next night, or the night after that – that he might not have to try to climb onto his own upper bunk again for the rest of the tour, or at least for as long as it would take his violated body to heal.

The week following the attack passed in a haze, as Adam just went from the bus to the venue to the hotel room to the bus, over and over again, doing his best to avoid more than the shallowest of small talk with his tour mates – to give them, and the audiences every night, just enough to keep them from noticing that something was _off_.

_Adam_ was off – as if someone had flipped a switch, and he’d gone into autopilot mode, and had no idea how to turn it back.

Not that he wanted to.

The pain medication he’d been prescribed not only made the physical pain bearable, but it also helped to keep him from having to think too much at all. The pills dulled the screaming outrage of his thoughts, blurring the vivid nightmare images and keeping the agonizing memories at bay. Adam was vaguely aware that the contents of the little orange bottle were going a little more quickly than they should have, but the irony was that they kept him from caring.

At the moment, not feeling, not thinking, seemed like the best that he could hope for.

Adam supposed that he should have found a small measure of satisfaction in the fact that his show was not the only one that was suffering. He took to hiding himself away in the dressing rooms during his attacker’s set, but he overheard the conversations of the others after the shows. Adam was vaguely aware that there was a certain justice in the fact that his attacker was consistently flopping, every show that week – but all he felt was hollow and empty inside.

“He had to have been drinking before his set. He almost fell off the stage!”

Adam kept to the back of the group as they made their way down the hall to their hotel rooms, but he could clearly hear Danny’s whispered words to Matt, at his side.

Matt was skeptical. “Nah, man, he couldn’t have. It’s against the rules. How’d he get it, anyway, if he was drinking?”

“I don’t know, but he’s not himself. Something’s up. I don’t know what it is, but something’s not right…”

Adam kept his eyes focused studiously ahead, but still caught the sideways glance Danny cast in his direction before going on.

“… and not just with him.”

Their voices fell silent just as they passed the room of the friend they were discussing. Apparently, he’d been rushed back to the hotel by the tour staff, in no condition to take part in the after-show meet and greet. From just beyond the thin wall that separated them from the wayward Idol’s room, Adam could hear the unmistakable sound of a raised, angry male voice.

Apparently, the other Idols were not the only ones who had noticed the sub-par performance.

Adam felt a sick sense of anxious anticipation as ahead of him, Danny and Matt both slowed their steps, trying to catch the words being said beyond the wall. Adam pointedly hurried his pace, passing them and making his way to his own room. Once the door had locked behind him, he sank down onto his bed, closing his eyes and trying to shut out the clamor of his thoughts.

_He’s not dealing with this very well, either, is he? Not that he should be. He _deserves _to suffer – deserves to fall apart and get kicked off the tour and get arrested and spend a few years behind bars with a few guys who’ll do to him what he did to me…_

_Not that that’s going to happen._ __

Adam was more determined than ever to keep the secret to himself, though it was becoming more and more difficult.

He couldn’t bring himself to so much as make eye contact with the man who had raped him – and to his relief, his attacker seemed to have no desire to speak to him, either, or acknowledge his presence in any way. They avoided each other whenever possible – backstage at every venue, any time they were forced to be near each other. On the bus, each kept to his own bunk more than they ever had before, and Adam knew that if the others hadn’t noticed it yet, it wouldn’t be long before they did… and there was no doubt in his mind that they would want to know why.

_And after the show tonight… _ __

The half-formed rumors among the Idols were bad enough now, when they had no idea of what had happened. Adam could only imagine the whispered conversations that would end when he drew near… the pitying, horrified looks that would be aimed his way… if the others knew what had happened to him.

_Just keep it together,_ Adam reminded himself. _Just another month and a half, and this will all be over. You can go on with your life, and no one will ever have to know… You won’t ever have to see him again, and everyone will forget all about the rumors and drama and just… just move on._

_Just a few more weeks… and you can move on._ __

But Adam knew better than to believe that, for _him_, it would really be possible.

_It’ll always be there… no matter what._ __

_I’ll never be able to forget…_ __

A soft knock on his door drew Adam from his thoughts, and his stomach dropped, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow in instantaneous reaction. Logic told him that it couldn’t be the one he feared, not when mere moments earlier he’d heard him being loudly lectured in his own room. Still, his heart raced at the irrational thought that he would open that door to find his rapist standing on the other side – ready to finish what he’d started.

“Adam?”

Adam’s shoulders relaxed, trembling with relief, at the muffled but familiar sound of Kris’s voice.

“It’s me. Are you awake?”

Adam hesitated, considering simply pretending to be asleep and ignoring Kris. But a moment later, Kris knocked again, raising his voice slightly.

“Adam?”

Adam bit the side of his lip, a frown of indecision creasing his brow for a moment before he reluctantly rose from the bed and went to the door. He opened it just a little, not moving out of the doorway as he forced a tired smile to his lips.

“Hey, man, what’s up?”

Kris’s smile was warm and disarming as he nodded toward Adam’s room. “Can I come in for a few minutes?”

Adam didn’t really want to let him, but he couldn’t really say _no_, now that he’d opened the door in the first place. He stepped back out of the doorway to allow Kris entrance, then closed the door behind him and returned to the bed, putting the pillow near the foot of the bed and lying down on his stomach as casually as he could, trying not to draw attention to his stiff, overly cautious movements.

Kris didn’t seem to notice as he turned the desk chair across from the bed around, straddling it backwards and leaning his crossed arms on the back as he gave Adam a pensive look. Adam swallowed hard, looking away, feeling suddenly, acutely vulnerable under Kris’s calmly scrutinizing gaze. Finally, Kris broke the silence, his voice low and quiet in the stillness of the room.

“So… when exactly are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Adam tried his best to look confused and surprised, shaking his head and raising one eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on,” Kris scoffed gently, his dark eyes locking onto Adam’s and refusing to let him look away. “I _know_ you, Adam – and I know something’s up. What’s going on?”

“_Nothing_!” Adam insisted, a nervous laugh falling from his lips, but not quite concealing the slight tremor in his voice. “Kris, if there was something going on I’d tell you, but…”

“See, that’s what _I_ thought,” Kris cut him off, his voice soft and thoughtful. “You’re my friend, Adam, and there’s nobody else on this tour that I can talk to like I can talk to you – and I thought you felt the same way, but… but here you are, obviously shutting everybody out, and… I get that, if you’re going through something. I do. I… I guess I just… never thought that would include _me_.”

Adam felt his face flush with guilt and self-conscious shame, and he averted his eyes, fidgeting with the blanket as he insisted in a carefully controlled voice, “Kris… there isn’t anything. I’m… tired, and… and a little overwhelmed with everything, I guess, but… it’s nothing. Could you just let it go?”

Kris’s voice took on a pleading note as he persisted. “Adam, it’s _something_. I can see it. _Everyone_ can see it. We’re… we’re all worried. And… you’re not the only one who’s acting weird…”

Adam’s stomach clenched with dread at those words, and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Whatever’s going on with anyone else,” he interrupted quickly, before Kris could go on, “I don’t know anything about that. I just know that _I’m fine_, okay? So why don’t you and everybody else who’s so worried just mind their own business?”

Kris was quiet for a moment, and when he replied, there was an unmistakable note of hurt in his words. “Because… we care about you, Adam.” He paused, hesitating before he amended softly, “_I _care about you. If something’s wrong, then… maybe there’s something I can do to _help_…”

“There isn’t.” Adam’s voice was cold and final, but he winced the moment the words left his lips, immediately recognizing his mistake.

Kris latched onto it instantly.

“So… there _is_ something, then.”

“I said let it go, Kris, all right?” Adam snapped, his voice trembling with defensive frustration. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t want to talk to you. What’s the point, anyway? In six weeks we’ll be out of each other’s lives, anyway. We’ll all be busy starting our own careers, and forget all about each other as fast as we’re out of sight, and you won’t have to worry about me anymore, so why don’t you just start now?”

Kris actually flinched at the words, and Adam’s heart was smitten with a sharp pang of instantaneous regret – but his jaw set in stubborn defiance, and he refused to back down from his harsh words, or take them back in any way.

_If it makes him just go, and stop asking all these questions, stop trying to get me to open up…_ __

_… stop just… being _Kris _for a second…_

“I… I never figured we’d be like that, Adam,” Kris confessed quietly, shaking his head. “I… I thought…”

“Kris. _Please_. I’m _tired_. The last thing I want is to have a ‘state of our friendship’ kind of conversation with you at one in the morning.” Adam lowered his face against his pillow for a moment – partially because he was struggling with his frustration, but mostly to keep from seeing Kris’s reaction to his harsh words – before raising his head, but leaving his eyes closed – shutting Kris out. His voice was low and desperate, almost pleading. “Could you just go? That’s all I want you to do right now. Just… just get out.”

Kris fell silent, and Adam couldn’t bear to look at him. The imagination in his mind of the hurt, reproachful look that had to be on Kris’s face in that moment was almost more than he could stand. He laid his head down again, effectively withdrawing from the conversation, and silently, desperately hoping that Kris would take the hint and leave.

After a moment, Kris did.

“Fine,” he snapped, his voice soft but angry, resentful. “If that’s what you want. I’m gone.”

Adam heard his quiet footsteps across the carpet as he headed for the door. A long time seemed to pass between when those footsteps stopped and when the door actually opened, but Adam held his ground, keeping his face turned away, refusing to take back any of what he had said.

_And that’s why he’s waiting,_ he knew. _He’s giving me a chance._

_Too bad I can’t take it._ __

When the door finally closed behind Kris, leaving Adam alone in solitude, he should have felt relieved – but he didn’t. All he felt was a cold, empty feeling of despair and disappointment – as if he’d just thrown away something that he desperately needed. A feeling of panic came over him with the sudden certainty that he’d just made a terrible mistake, and Adam rose from the bed and hurried to the door, reaching out to open it and make his way out into the hall and down to Kris’s room.

He stopped, his hand hovering over the handle.

_And say what? You’re sorry, but you still won’t tell him? He’ll just push harder then. If he knows you _want _to talk to him but can’t, he’ll_ never _let it go._

_And if he keeps trying… eventually he’ll get it out of you._ __

Adam swallowed hard, fighting back the sob that rose up in his throat.

_And… you can’t let that happen._ __

Weary, overwhelming desolation came over Adam, and he sank slowly to his knees as violent shivers came over him that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to hold together something that had already shattered, the broken shards slipping through his fingers and crashing to the floor. Adam just stayed there for a very long time, struggling for control that he couldn’t seem to find, his heart aching with regret and need that he was forced to deny, and his eyes burning with tears that he refused to let fall.


	5. Chapter 5

Kris went back to his room seething with fury.

 

_After everything we’ve been through… all the times I’ve confided in him, all the things he’s told me… Why would he say those things to me? Why would he talk to me like our friendship is just some passing phase that will end with the tour? It’s_ more _than that to me – and I_ know _he’s hurting, for some reason… something’s definitely very wrong… and I want to help him, if he would just_ talk _to me!_

Kris paced the floor of his hotel room for hours, trying to decide what to do, very seriously considering going back to Adam’s room – but in the end, he decided against it.

Adam’s hostility made it clear that he really did not want to talk at the moment. Kris knew Adam well enough to know that he had a very strong stubborn streak, and that the more Kris pushed him to talk, the less likely Adam was to change his mind and open up to him.

Over the next few days, though it was torture for him, Kris kept his distance, silently hoping that Adam might come to him – but he didn’t. It was very painful for Kris, watching as his friend slowly faded into a quiet, withdrawn shell of the person he’d been. Adam had always been such a social person, but now, he seemed to avoid contact with the others as often as possible – going directly to his bunk or his room whenever the shows were over, and making it clear that _no one_ was welcome inside. It made Kris sick with worry and helpless frustration, knowing that something was seriously wrong with his friend, but unable to do anything to help him.

 

_If he wants to talk to me… he will. _Kris tried to reassure himself. _And until he decides that he’s ready to do that, well… there’s nothing I can do about it._

However, as much as he was determined not to ask Adam again – that didn’t keep Kris from strategically placing himself in Adam’s path as often as possible, in order to give him the opportunity to talk, if he wanted to. He knew it was a little on the passive aggressive side, but Kris was sure that whatever secret he was hiding, Adam couldn’t keep it all inside forever. Adam was by nature an incredibly open, honest person. Sooner or later, his protective shield was bound to slip – and when it did, Kris intended to be around to help Adam pick up the pieces.

In the mean time, Kris began to notice that Adam was not the only one on the tour who seemed to be falling apart.

Kris tried to avoid the gossip – however well-intentioned it might have been – that made its way gradually through the entire tour entourage; but it was impossible to miss the way that Michael’s performances were slipping. He had been a jovial, good-natured bear of a man when the tour started – friend to most and enemy to none – but as the days slipped by, Kris noticed that Michael didn’t care to hang out with his tour mates anymore. He kept to himself, barely talking to anyone, never smiling – and Kris thought it was beginning to look as if he was losing weight, as well.

And then, there was the scandal of the show a few nights earlier, when Michael had taken the stage so obviously drunk that he had nearly tripped off the edge of it halfway through his set.

 

_And Michael doesn’t drink. Or at least… he didn’t. First Adam, and now Michael…_ Kris couldn’t shake the worry brought on by his troublesome observations. _Something’s going on here… something bad. And someone has to know what it is… but no one’s talking._

 

_We’ll just have to see if I can change that._

The atmosphere on the bus had become far less fun and pleasant, full of tension and uncertainty. The Idols used to sit up late, playing cards, watching movies, or just laughing and talking – but not anymore. Adam was the first to retire – to _Kris’s_ bunk, as had become the usual these days – but Kris stayed up, hoping for a chance to talk to Michael once the others had gone to bed.

Michael didn’t seem to be sleeping much these days.

Most nights, he would sit up near the front of the bus, alone, staring into space, lost in his own dark thoughts. His morose mood usually kept the others away – and usually, Kris would have left Michael alone as well – but tonight, he had no intention of doing so. As the others gradually made their way to their own bunks, Kris remained seated at the little kitchenette table, pretending to read a magazine. Once he and Michael were alone, Kris tossed down the magazine and rose to his feet, making his way casually toward the front of the bus.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” He kept his tone light as he flopped down onto the seat beside Michael.

“Nothing,” Michael muttered, thoroughly distracted, staring at the wall in front of him without really seeing it – answering Kris without really hearing him.

Kris was pretty sure that Michael didn’t even know – or care – which of his tour mates he was talking to.

“No, dude, seriously,” he persisted, nudging Michael’s side with his elbow. “What’s _up_ with you lately? Talk to me, what’s the deal?”

“There is no deal.” Michael’s tone was flat, utterly unconvincing – as if he’d answered these questions so many times by this point that the answers were now automatic. “I’m fine.”

“Right. Obviously.” Kris’s response was sarcastic, but gently so. “Because it’s totally normal for you to be shutting out your friends… blowing shows…”

“Just let it go, Kris, okay?” Michael sighed, his tone terse and impatient as he leaned forward and lowered his head into his hand, running his fingers nervously through his hair. “It’s none of your business.”

Kris nodded once, slowly. “Fair enough. It’s _not_ my business, and if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s cool, but… I just want you to know, I’m here for you, man. I’m your friend, okay? And… whatever it is that’s bothering you, if you feel like getting it out in the open, I’d be glad to listen. You know… offer a sympathetic ear.”

Michael let out a harsh, bitter laugh, rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to respond – but then closing it again, shaking his head. After a moment, he sighed heavily. “Kris… just leave it, okay? Trust me. The issues I’ve got, you do _not_ wanna hear about. I’m… gonna be fine, okay? All I need is just… a little bit of time to think, that’s all, all right? Just… just please back off and leave me alone.”

“Everybody keeps telling me that, I’m gonna develop a complex or something,” Kris muttered, defeated as he rose to his feet and headed toward the back of the bus. “If you change your mind, dude… I’m here.”

He repeated his offer before disappearing down the hallway and climbing up onto Adam’s bunk – though at this point, he was pretty sure it was fair to call it his own. Adam didn’t seem to have any intention of reclaiming it – and that was just one of the dozens of strange little behavioral shifts that left his mind full of questions – questions that only Adam could answer, though it was clear that he wasn’t going to.

He lay down on the thin mattress, closing his eyes and trying to sleep, but too troubled by the questions that filled his thoughts to find any rest. His heart was heavy, his mind busy, as he tried to shut it all out long enough to fall asleep – but he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was going on was far more serious than either Michael or Adam wanted him to believe.

 

_This tour was supposed to be the time of our lives – amazing memories that would last forever. But now, everything is falling apart, and no one wants to say why._

 

_Maybe Adam was right. Maybe we’ll all be better off once this tour is over, and we can all move on with our lives._

******************************************

 

_I was so looking forward to this tour. Now, I just can’t wait until it’s over…_

Adam lay in Kris’s lower bunk – the one he’d all but confiscated at this point, since Kris hadn’t asked for it back yet – listening as Kris made his way down the hall and climbed up onto the upper bunk. He lay curled on his side, facing the hallway – a defensive posture that he was pretty sure by this point was at least _physically_ unnecessary – and hoping that Kris would just go to sleep without speaking to him. It wasn’t that Kris would ask him anything intrusive, not at this point, Adam knew. Kris seemed to have given up on getting any real answers when he’d left Adam’s hotel room a few nights earlier, apparently resigning himself to being shut out.

It was just that it would be so much easier if Kris would start shutting _him_ out, too, instead of attempting to treat Adam as if things were the same as ever between them, as much as he possibly could.

“Good night, Adam.”

Kris’s soft words carried through the flimsy barriers that separated them, but the warmth, the subtle invitation in them, was unmistakable.

Adam just swallowed hard, not responding.

He lay there, sleepless and sick with loneliness, desperately wishing that he could talk to Kris – and yet, having no idea what he would actually say if he could. He’d gone over it in his mind, again and again – what he would say, what words he would choose to explain what had happened to him – but he couldn’t quite imagine it, and didn’t _want_ to imagine how Kris might respond. His face felt hot, his stomach queasy, at the very thought of the humiliation that would follow any sort of confession of what it was that he was dealing with.

 

_It’s not like he could help me, anyway. There’s nothing he could do about it. All it would accomplish would be to drag him into the middle of this. There’s no way he’d want to let Michael get away with it. He’d insist on telling someone, and then everyone would know, and…_

 

_No. I just can’t. I can’t tell Kris the truth – no matter how badly I want to._

And Adam _did _want to, at least on some level. He hated the distance that had fallen between them, and longed for the easy camaraderie they had shared all during the competition, and during the first few weeks of the tour. He kept imagining the hurt Kris must have felt when he’d dismissed not only his concern, but also his friendship, a few nights earlier. All he wanted was to go to Kris and apologize, to confess that he hadn’t meant it, and tell him everything – but he simply couldn’t find the words.

 

_“I went down to the bar with the others, and… and was so reckless and stupid and pissed off at you for spending time with your wife instead of with me that I behaved like a stupid child and stayed by myself after everyone but Michael had left, and got myself drugged and nearly dragged off to some stranger’s hotel room… and then the next morning, I accused _Michael_ of raping me, and just… just kept on until he… he…”_

Adam shook his head, his mouth suddenly dry, his head aching, his stomach rebelling against the shameful words and the vivid, nightmare images that filled his mind along with them. He couldn’t tell Kris any of that. There was no way he could make him understand how it had all come to be, how he’d brought such violence and degradation upon himself.

 

_Stupid… it was at least partly my fault. If I’d just shut up and quit yelling accusations long enough to realize that I hadn’t slept with anyone that night… then none of this would have happened. Michael wouldn’t have gotten so angry, and I wouldn’t have gotten… he wouldn’t have…_

Adam couldn’t even make himself _think_ the word, let alone _say_ it.

As he lay there on his bunk, Adam suddenly realized that he was shaking. Vivid memories flashed through his thoughts, and for a moment it was as if he was back there again, in Michael’s hotel room, being held down and ruthlessly, violently violated. His nearly healed injuries throbbed with a pain that was not entirely physical, and Adam took out the pill bottle from under his pillow, opening it with one hand and tipping a single pill into his mouth. With a grimace of distaste, he swallowed it dry, shuddering at the bitter taste that momentarily filled his mouth.

He hated taking pills without water, but preferred doing so to getting up and going to the sink, and risking an encounter with one of his well-meaning friends – or worse, with Michael. No, he would rather suffer the discomfort of dry-swallowing his medication than to risk the questions and concern he knew the others would have if they saw him taking it.

And besides – taking his medicine this way was getting easier all the time.

Adam glanced into the bottle, noticing uneasily that he only had about a half a dozen pills left. He wasn’t sure how long the prescription was supposed to have lasted, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t time for a refill yet.

 

_Have to talk to Amy in the morning,_ he told himself. _Which won’t be pleasant, to say the least, but… she’s the only one who knows that I need the pills in the first place. Maybe she can work something out so I can get an early refill, or something, without the others knowing…_

Adam lay there, worrying and wondering a little while longer – until the pill he’d taken began to do its job. The pain faded away, and his troubled, racing thoughts gradually slowed until they were nothing more than a wordless, indifferent haze. Adam relished the hazy, sleepy feeling that drifted over him, as he slowly faded into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The Idols came in from their next show, exhausted, but too exhilarated from the adrenaline of being on stage to want to go to their rooms for the night just yet. The side entrance they used to enter the hotel was near the conference rooms, and there was a large, comfortable lobby area in the center. As the others reluctantly started toward the elevators, Megan flopped down onto an over-stuffed loveseat.

“Come on, guys, hold up,” she called. “Let’s just hang out here for a while.”

“There’s a lobby like this upstairs, you know,” Kris reminded her with a smile. “We can hang out there…”

“Except up there we have to worry about being quiet so we don’t disturb the neighbors,” Megan pointed out. “There aren’t any guest rooms around here. We can stay up as late as we want, and not have to worry about keeping it down.”

Most of the others settled into the seats near hers to relax and unwind a little while before going to bed. Adam and Michael both started down the hall toward the elevators – then froze, exchanging a brief moment of awkward, unintentional eye contact. Almost immediately, Michael turned and headed back toward the lobby area.

“I… I guess I _will_ hang out for a little while…”

Adam felt his hands beginning to shake – a residual reaction to his momentary panic at the thought of going upstairs alone with Michael. He told himself – repeatedly – that Michael was unlikely to try anything again; still, he couldn’t shake the fear that seemed to overwhelm him anytime the two of them were in the same room. The thought of being _alone_ with Michael, however briefly, was enough to inspire sheer terror.

He couldn’t wait to get to the quiet privacy of his own room, behind his locked door – but it was not to be for a little while longer.

“Adam.”

He turned at the sound of Amy’s voice, just loud enough to catch his attention across the lobby, without quite shouting. He stopped, waiting for her to catch up to him near the last conference room door. She nodded toward it, already heading that way.

“Can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

Adam glanced self-consciously at the others, most of whom were casting curious looks in their direction. He pointedly ignored them, following Amy into the empty conference room, and closing the door behind them. Ordinarily, he tried to avoid her, ever since she’d driven him back from the hospital. But, he knew what she wanted to “talk” about this time – and he definitely wanted to “talk” about it, too.

Amy wasted no time; as soon as the door was closed, she turned to face him, her voice hushed and secretive. “I called the doctor who saw you before and explained the situation, and got him to call in a refill for you to a local pharmacy. He almost didn’t do it. He said the prescription he gave you last time shouldn’t be gone by now…”

“Thanks.” Adam cut her off, reaching for the bottle she’d just taken from her pocket.

She pulled her hand back, deliberately holding it away as she gave him a pointed, warning look. “This will have to be the _last time_, Adam. He’s not going to approve any more refills without some kind of explanation, and I can’t deal with any more crazy on this tour – especially from _you_. You’ve gotta leave some for the rest of the Idols, you know?”

Adam’s jaw clenched with frustration at Amy’s scathing sarcasm, but he managed to rein it in – mostly because the prescription bottle he needed was still in _her_ hand and not his.

Still, he couldn’t help pointing out to her in a low, controlled tone that barely revealed his irritation, “This is only the _first_ time, Amy. You make it sound like I’m some kind of an addict…”

“I’m aware of that, and I know that you’re not. Yet.” Amy raised an eyebrow in a dubious look as she reluctantly held out the bottle for him to take it. “And I’m just trying to make sure that doesn’t happen. That’s why I’m telling you – when this one runs out, that’s the end. I won’t be getting you any more painkillers – period.”

“I won’t need any more by then,” Adam assured her, his voice low and resentful as he took the bottle from her hand and turned to walk away.

“You’d better not,” she muttered. “You shouldn’t need any more by _now_.”

“How would you know?” Adam snapped, turning to face her again. “You don’t know anything about what I’m feeling…”

“I know that you’re only feeling it because you chose to break the rules and recklessly endanger your own safety, and now you’re _choosing_ to use that to get pain meds that there is _no way_ you should still need, after one incident of rough sex!” Amy’s voice rose in frustrated anger, and Adam glanced with alarm toward the closed door. She followed his gaze, then closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, steadying breath before turning away from him with a dismissive hand upraised, shaking her head and muttering under her breath, “The star of the tour becoming addicted to painkillers on my watch would be just the level of shit I do _not_ need.”

Adam’s fists clenched at his sides, so tightly that the tiny plastic bottle in one hand creaked dangerously. After a moment, he turned to go again, retorting sarcastically over his shoulder, “Gee, thanks so much for your concern.”

“That’s what your _friends_ are for,” Amy retorted. “My concern is making sure that you don’t humiliate and scandalize American Idol or any of their sponsors – not babysitting _you_.” With those words, she stalked past him out of the room, leaving him standing there alone and quietly fuming.

Adam knew that he hadn’t exactly made her job easy over the last few weeks – and from her perspective, that was even more due to his own reckless behavior than it really was. He had lied to her to make her believe that his injuries were the result of a careless one-night stand, and now he had asked her to obtain medication for him without going through the proper legal channels to do it. He couldn’t really blame her for not being thrilled with the situation.

 

_Still_, he thought, _it wouldn’t hurt her to be a little more understanding…_

Her words echoed in his mind as he stepped through the door she’d left open and back out into the lobby where the other Idols were gathered.

 

_‘That’s what your friends are for.’_

He glanced around at the others, his face flushing as he noticed several of them looking his way. His eyes automatically sought out Kris, who was standing near Allison, the two of them having a quiet conversation. As Adam watched, Allison focused on him, her words – too soft to be heard from so far away – falling silent. Kris frowned, then followed her gaze to where it fell on Adam. His frown deepened with concern, before he looked back at Allison and said something. She shook her head sadly at Kris before glancing back at Adam – and then looking away quickly, guiltily, when she realized he’d caught her staring.

 

_Yeah, right. I don’t think I have any left._

Adam’s gaze turned toward the elevators, and he noticed with dismay that Michael was standing near them. Danny was with him, apparently trying to convince him not to go upstairs just yet. As Adam watched, shifting impatiently, wishing there was another way to get upstairs, Michael raised his eyes and looked toward him – and Adam’s stomach dropped when their eyes met.

He flinched – then cringed inwardly, unable to bring himself to look at any of the others, but wondering uneasily if any of them had noticed his reaction. His heart was racing, and his brow broke out in a cold sweat. Fighting back the ever-present sense of underlying panic now rising up within him, Adam did the only thing he could think of in that moment. He ducked back into the empty conference room, pulling the door closed behind him.

He paced the floor rapidly, trying to catch his breath, struggling to bring his rapidly careening thoughts back into focus.

 

_Nobody’s picked up on anything yet, in the last two weeks. There’s no way they could figure it out now, just from a single weird look, or… or a flinch… or whatever. They don’t know… they suspect that something’s up, but they don’t know that it has anything to do with Michael. They don’t know…_

 

_They_ can’t _know… please, they can’t know…!_

Adam raised his newly acquired prize in his hands, struggling to twist the lid off with trembling fingers. Before he could get the bottle open, however, his attention was drawn by the soft, creaking sound of the door opening. He spun around, shoving the bottle in his pocket, heart lurching with fear that he already knew to be irrational. Michael had been avoiding him as much as he’d been avoiding Michael. Dozens of times since _it_ had happened, he’d felt the same instinctive fear – and every time, his instincts had been proven wrong.

This time – they were right.

Michael was standing just inside the doorway, the door handle still in his hand as he quietly closed it. His head was bowed, his eyes glistening with tears, as he took a few cautious, halting steps toward Adam. Adam immediately backed away, his stomach lurching with fear, shaking his head. His mouth was suddenly dry, and he swallowed hard, struggling to find the strength to speak.

“Get… get out,” he ordered at last, his voice low and hoarse. “Get the fuck away from me…”

“Just give me a minute,” Michael pleaded, taking another step in Adam’s direction. “I… I’m _so sorry_, Adam, okay? I just… I wish there was something… _anything_… I’ve gone over it again and again, and I don’t know what I was… how I could have…” He shook his head, momentarily at a loss, and when he looked up again and went on, his words were almost a sob of desperation and despair. “_Please_. Just… just tell me what I can say… what I can do… to make this easier for you. To… to make it better. I have to _make it better_!”

Adam stared at him in disbelief for a long moment, frozen in place by the sheer shock of what Michael was asking of him. Slowly, the fearful expression on his face shifted to one of anger and disgusted indignation.

“Make it _better_?” he echoed, incredulous, his voice trembling as furious tears began to form in his eyes. “You think you can… you think there’s _anything_ you could possibly do or say that would… after what you _did_ to me…!”

“I didn’t… I mean…” Michael stumbled over his words, an anguished expression of frustration on his face as he shook his head, unable to find the words to voice what he was trying to express. “I didn’t… when I started out, that night, I just… I just wanted to _help_…”

“_Help_?” Adam repeated with a harsh, bitter laugh. “Yeah. I’m so much better off than I would have been if you’d let that stranger take me to his room.” Adam lowered his head, tears streaking his face as he swallowed back the painful knot that had formed in his throat. His voice was barely over a whisper as he added, “I wouldn’t have even _remembered that_. But you… I can’t… can’t _stop_ remembering… Every single fucking day… I have to… to see you… to work with you… I can’t forget it, no matter how hard I try…”

“I’m sorry,” Michael insisted, though the desolation in his tone made it clear that he knew just how worthless the words were. “I’m sorry…”

“You’re _sorry_? God, what is that even supposed to _mean_ to me?” Adam didn’t really intend to raise his voice, but suddenly he was shouting, his voice dangerously shaky and shrill, verging on completely out of control. “You _destroyed_ me! What the fuck is your ‘sorry’ supposed to do for me?”

“Nothing. I know,” Michael acknowledged sadly, looking away for a moment before holding out his hands in a beseeching gesture, utterly desperate. “I know, Adam, I just… there has to be _something_ I can…”

“There isn’t.”

Adam cut him off sharply, moving toward the doorway – then stopping short when he realized that Michael was blocking it. Michael was searching his face again, pleading in his eyes, as he took another thoughtless step toward Adam.

“Maybe there is. What if I…?”

“Get out of my way!” Adam demanded, his voice shaking with fear that he tried – uselessly – to conceal, as he forced himself to move closer to the door – which also meant moving closer to Michael. “Just get away from me.”

“Adam, wait…”

“I said _get away_!”

Adam shoved Michael, hard. The motion barely budged the much larger man, but Michael immediately backed off, clearing the doorway and giving him room to leave. But Adam didn’t leave. Instead, he shoved Michael again, and then again, pouring out the rage that Michael’s pleading apologies had brought bubbling up to the surface. But it wasn’t enough, and Adam found himself lashing out again with an actual blow, driving his fist furiously into Michael’s discouragingly solid torso.

Michael did not strike back or try to stop Adam as he hit him again, and then a third time. He just stood there, his head bowed, accepting the physical attack as punishment for what he had done. Adam was vaguely aware that he was shouting – nearly screaming – in rage at Michael, though he didn’t know what he was saying, and would not remember later. He just flung his outrage and righteous fury in Michael’s face, pouring it out with all his strength in words and blows.

But… it wasn’t enough.

 

_Nothing… will_ ever _be… enough._

As the thought filled Adam’s mind, his flailing fists dropped, and he covered his face with one hand, choking back the harsh, painful sobs that rose up in his throat. Michael just stood there, shaking his head, his own face streaked with tears, whispering the same words over and over – words that gradually sank through the haze of rage and despair that surrounded Adam… and were every bit as meaningless as they’d been the first time he’d heard them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, God, I’m so sorry, Adam…”

One last burst of fury flared up in Adam, and he struck out again with one final blow – a double-handed shove against Michael’s chest that barely moved him – his voice strangled and broken as he snarled, “Would you just _stop fucking saying that_!”

Adam barely noticed the creaking of the door opening beyond them as he spoke – but then suddenly, someone was between them, holding out a hand in either direction to separate them.

“Whoa, whoa, guys!” Danny looked between them with concern. “What’s going on here? Easy, there’s gotta be a better way to resolve… whatever this is…”

Michael cringed – and Adam laughed, though it was not a pleasant sound. Danny gave him a worried, questioning frown as he held up a dismissive hand and slipped around Danny toward the door.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured him, without meeting his eyes. “It’s _done_.”

_And nothing can undo it_.

***************************************

No one followed Adam when he made his way to his room this time.

He waited until he was locked into the total privacy it provided to take out the pill bottle again. He opened it with trembling, unsteady hands, barely able to see through the hot tears that filled his eyes, and tipped a single pill into his mouth, swallowing it dry.

He tossed the bottle onto his bed and paced the floor of his room, his shaking arms wrapped tightly around his torso, trying to hold back the hollow, sick feeling that was creeping over him with the devastating memories that assailed his mind. He hadn’t been so close to Michael since – since _that night_; and despite the fact that this time, he had been the one on the attack, the encounter had still only served to reinforce his own sense of powerlessness.

_I hit him… I screamed in his face and shoved him and punched him… and I could barely move him_.

Adam stopped, burying his face in his hands and struggling for control of his emotions, as a bitter truth occurred to him.

_It wouldn’t have mattered if I had. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make it not have happened – doesn’t make me stop feeling like… God, I wish I could just stop_ feeling…

_… why isn’t this fucking pill_ working?

Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, picking up the pill bottle again and twisting it open, impatiently pouring out another pill into his hand. He hesitated just a moment before taking it, remembering Amy’s concerns about addiction – and then forcing them to the back of his mind and swallowing down the pill anyway.

_I just have to make it stop… just have to… to_ escape _for a little while…_ please…

Adam closed his eyes, trying to will into being the heavy, sleepy sensation the pills used to bring him, when he’d first started taking them; but all he could picture was Michael’s face, streaked with tears as he begged for forgiveness – Michael’s voice as he’d hovered over him, twisted with rage as he’d snarled threats and insults and slammed brutally into him again and again…

Adam nearly threw up, but pressed the back of his hand over his mouth, forcing himself to keep down the pills he’d swallowed. He needed them too much to waste them that way…

… even if they weren’t doing any good yet.

 

_They’re not working like they used to,_ he realized with a rising sense of despair. _Sooner or later, they’ll stop working altogether. And when that happens… then _nothing_ will be able to drive back the thoughts… the memories…_

 

_I’ve just been fooling myself. These pills don’t really solve anything._

 

_This will _never_ be over._

Adam's breath caught in his throat as the horror of that thought washed over him. This was it. This was his life now, all that lay ahead of him – the inevitable slide back into painful reality as the drugs that had become his only release slowly failed him… with no hope of escape.

 

_Unless…_

Adam stared down at the bottle in his hand, a sinister thought creeping through his mind with dark promise – and he slowly tipped out several more pills into his hand. He swallowed hard, staring down at the thin white capsules, tempted by the power he knew they still held, despite his growing tolerance to them – power to make the unbearable, constant pain and torment of his thoughts and fears just… go away.

For good.

There was a nearly full glass of water sitting on the nightstand, where he’d left it while getting ready for the show that afternoon. Adam set the bottle on the nightstand, and picked up the glass – then tilted the handful of pills into his mouth, washing them down quickly with some of the water before he could think long enough to think himself out of it.

They went down more easily than he had anticipated.

It was too late to turn back now, even if he’d wanted to – and he didn’t – so Adam picked up the bottle and poured the rest of the medication into his mouth, followed by the rest of the water in the glass. He set the glass down on the nightstand again, and the bottle beside it, before lying down on his side on the bed, his arms still wrapped tight around his trembling body, trying not to think at all while he waited for the pills to do their work.

Finally, the welcome, familiar dull haze begin to blur the bright, painful edges of his thoughts, and Adam willingly surrendered to it – relishing the sweet slide into the dark, quiet nothingness he craved, feeling a sense of overwhelming relief at the absence of the pain and fear that haunted him, until finally, he got his wish… and felt nothing at all.


	7. Chapter 7

All Kris really wanted to do after the show that night was to go to his room and sleep.

But when Megan suggested that they hang out in the deserted lobby for a while, something made him decide to stay. It shouldn’t have mattered, whether he stayed and made meaningless conversation, or went to his room for the night. But with Adam off in his own increasingly unhappy world, and Michael equally distant and miserable, and the rest of the Idols alternating between trying to figure them out and trying to pretend it wasn’t happening – the group that had once been so close was splintering around him, and suddenly just the simple act of hanging out felt like a very important thing.

 

_The last thing we all need is to get off in our own separate corners and mope._

 

_I’ll stay. Just for a little while._

“Adam!”

Kris automatically turned his focus toward the sound of his friend’s name, and noticed with interest that one of their handlers, Amy, was beckoning Adam toward her. He frowned, wondering if perhaps Adam was in some kind of trouble – if there was something he’d been hiding this whole time that had kept him so preoccupied.

If that was the case – had he just been found out?

Kris’s curiosity was destined to be frustrated, it seemed, as Amy and Adam disappeared into one of the empty conference rooms that lined the hall. Almost immediately, Allison sat down on the loveseat beside Kris, letting out a shaky, anxious sigh as she did, and drumming her fingers rapidly against the arm of the seat. Worry was clear in her voice when she spoke in a tone that was hushed and heavy.

“So… what’s up with him, Kris?”

Kris shook his head, lowering it in defeat. “Wish I knew. He used to talk to me, but… lately…” Kris reached out to take her hand and gave her a sad smile when she looked up at him with hopeful, questioning eyes. “I think we’re pretty much equally in the dark this time, girl.”

They sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, each lost in their own troubled thoughts, until Allison sat up a little straighter, her attention drawn back to the door of the conference room.

“He’s coming out. Should we talk to him?”

“I don’t know, Alli.” Kris sighed. “I just… I think maybe we should just let him come to us.”

“But he’s not _going_ to come to us,” Allison insisted, frustration clear in her voice. “He’s going to be a stubborn butthead and keep shutting us out like he’s been doing for weeks! We have to…”

Her voice broke off abruptly, and Kris looked up just in time to see her guiltily lower her gaze. He glanced across the room in the direction she’d been looking, and saw Adam glaring in her direction for just a moment before he looked away. Adam took a step as if he was going to head for the elevators and the seclusion of his own room, but then he suddenly turned and went back into the empty conference room.

“Great. Now he’s pissed off at me, on top of just generally not wanting to talk to me.” Allison sounded nearly on the verge of tears.

“Not just you,” Kris offered gently, though he knew it was small comfort. “He saw us both talking. And for all he knows, we were talking about the show tonight, or the weather, or whatever…”

“No.” Allison’s tone was low and foreboding, and Kris had to admit that he knew she was right. “He knows.”

Kris opened his mouth to reassure her again, but his words fell away when he noticed with dismay that they were not the only ones who had noticed Adam’s strange behavior. Michael was headed toward the conference room with a swift, purposeful stride.

“Pretty sure that’s… _not_… a good idea,” Kris sighed, to no one in particular.

A few moments later – the yelling started.

Though the words could not be made out through the closed door that separated Michael and Adam from everyone else, Kris could clearly hear the bitter rage that filled Adam’s raised, out-of-control voice. The raw anguish that filled Adam’s words tore at Kris’s heart, and he wished once again that his friend could find enough trust to open up to him and tell him what he was going through.

When Danny headed toward the conference room, a look of alarm on his face, Kris forced himself not to say anything that the other man would find hurtful or offensive, lowering his head into his hand with a low groan.

“And… _that’s_ an even _worse_ idea…”

“We should go in there,” Allison suggested, rising to her feet, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

Kris gently caught her wrist, pulling her back down into her seat.

“No. We really shouldn’t.”

“But… Adam needs…”

“Adam needs to talk to someone, yeah,” Kris conceded, waiting until she met his eyes to go on firmly. “But those two are in there right now pissing him off _beyond_ words, so… the best thing we can do at the moment is just to stay out of it… give him some space to calm down… and then, maybe later, try again.”

The last part was only offered as an attempt to keep from shattering the remaining hope that Allison held – which was more hope than Kris had, at this point. He did his best to keep acting normally toward Adam – to maintain their friendship in whatever very limited way Adam would allow – but Adam’s cruel words that night in his room had made it very clear to Kris that he did not want to be pushed on whatever it was that was bothering him. He’d used the most emotionally brutal words he could think of to push Kris away with all his strength – and Kris knew that the best thing he could do was to simply respect Adam’s decision.

Unfortunately, others in their group did not seem to see the situation that way.

When Adam stormed out of the conference room a few moments later and angrily stalked off to the elevators, Kris pointedly tightened his grip on Allison’s wrist, shaking his head slowly in response to her pleading look. He had seen the look of smoldering rage in Adam’s eyes as he’d passed, and the last thing he wanted was for Allison to become an innocent victim of the sharp tongue he knew that Adam could sometimes have.

“Just give him some space,” he softly recommended. “Let him cool down. Then, in the morning, maybe… you can try again.”

****************************************

Allison wasn’t sure that she could wait until morning.

She had stayed down in the lobby with the others for a while longer – mostly because Kris made her – but all she could think about was Adam. She didn’t know what was wrong, why he’d been shutting everyone out for the last few weeks – but she knew that he couldn’t keep on going like this for long. This was supposed to be the best time of his life – and he was clearly miserable. It broke her heart to see him like this, and she couldn’t just sit there and watch him suffering without doing anything, no matter what Kris thought was best.

 

_So… I’ll go talk to him. See if he’ll tell me what’s going on this time… even though he wouldn’t… every other time… and… _

 

_… he might get really mad at me…_

Allison paced the floor of her room, her stomach sick with indecision, as her mind filled with alternating images of Adam, alone and crying in his room over some secret pain that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to share – and Adam, yelling in her face and reducing _her_ to tears for not listening to him the first dozen times he’d told her to _leave him alone_.

 

_Maybe Kris is right. Maybe I should just… just let him come to me, in his own time, when he’s ready…_

Allison stopped for a moment, staring at the door, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.

 

_Screw that. He needs to talk to someone, whether he knows it or not…_

Determination hurried her stride as Allison made her way down the hallway to Adam’s room. She knocked on the door, quick and sharp before she could think better of it and change her mind.

“Adam? I need to talk to you.”

Adam did not answer – but Allison wasn’t really surprised. She knocked again, harder.

“_Adam_! Open the damn door, now! I’m your friend, and you’re _not_ gonna do this! Now, _open up_!”

She knocked again, with enough force to shake the door beneath her hand, and the sound echoed throughout the hallway, drawing several of her tour mates to their own doors, curious heads peeking out into the hall. Allison deliberately ignored them, unwilling to face either their sympathy or their vain attempts to talk her out of her decided course of action.

“Adam! I am _not_ kidding! Open this door right now!”

“Alli…”

Allison closed her eyes, momentarily ceasing her efforts to get Adam to open the door – which were beginning to bruise her hand, she was pretty sure – at the sound of Kris’s voice, low and compassionate, close at her side. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and leaned her head forward to rest against the door, fighting back the frustrated tears that rose to her eyes with the sympathetic touch.

“Alli, come on. This is useless. If he doesn’t want to… to open up… then you can’t force him to.”

Allison knew he was talking about more than just the door – and she also knew that he was right.

“Something’s wrong, Kris,” she insisted anyway, looking up at him, though barely seeing him through her tears. “Something… _bad_. And… and I can’t just let him… I have to _try_. If I don’t, then… it’s just… giving up, and… I _can’t_ give up. Not on _Adam_.”

***********************************

Kris flinched slightly, stricken with guilt by the truth of Allison’s words.

He swallowed hard, glancing back and forth between Adam’s door and his own down the hall for a few moments, considering. Finally he looked back at Allison, his jaw set with stubborn determination.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated firmly. “You’re right, Alli, I’m sorry. We… we shouldn’t ever give up.”

He stepped forward, and she moved back to allow him closer access to the door. He pounded on it with greater strength than she’d been able to muster, before leaning in close to the door and raising his voice.

“Adam, you’d better just answer the door. We’re not going anywhere until you do.”

He punctuated his words with more thunderous blows – then frowned when the only response was Adam’s continued silence. He gave Allison a troubled frown.

“Are we even sure he’s in there?”

“Pretty sure. Where else would he be?” The beginnings of fear began to form in Allison’s eyes as she bit her lower lip and turned her wide, uncertain gaze toward the door. “Do you think… do you think something’s really wrong? Like… maybe he’s hurt or something?”

“No…” Kris shook his head, but a cold knot had begun to form in the pit of his stomach. “No, I’m sure he’s… he’s fine…” He pounded on the door again. “_Adam_! Adam, come on, man! Just tell us to get lost, or whatever, but say _something_, so we know you’re all right, okay? _Adam_!”

Nothing.

“Maybe we should get someone to open the door,” Allison suggested, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other as she glanced down the hall toward Amy’s room. “What if he… I don’t know, fell or something? What if he’s in there bleeding to death or something while we’re out here…”

“No, I’m sure he’s okay…” Kris insisted, hesitant. “but… maybe you’re right. Maybe we should get someone to open the door, just in case.” He raised his voice again, leaning in close to the door as Allison sprinted ahead of him down the hall toward the handlers’ rooms. “You hear that, Adam? We’re getting someone to unlock the door, so if you’d rather we didn’t, you should just open it yourself. Okay?”

Adam still did not answer.

Kris hurried to catch up with Allison, his mind racing with fearful possibilities. As he passed, he was vaguely aware of a couple of Megan and Michael, both watching from their doorways, but couldn’t be bothered to explain anything to them – not with the queasy, unsettled feeling that was steadily growing stronger inside him.

 

_He’s okay,_ he told himself firmly. _It’s not going to be anything. He’s just being a stubborn jerk, and when we get the door open we’ll see that he’s fine… everything’s going to be fine…_

Amy answered her door looking sleepy and unhappy, blinking and trying to focus on Allison’s hurried, stumbling words.

“… he might be hurt, I don’t know, because I knocked on his door a lot, and he can’t have slept through that, and there has to be something wrong or he’d have answered by now, no matter how weird he’s been acting lately, so can you just check? Just so we can be sure?”

Amy looked down the hall toward Adam’s door, an expression of troubled indecision in her eyes. “Yeah,” she agreed, far more readily than Kris had expected. “Yeah, let’s just check.”

Kris and Allison followed her down the hall, where she knocked sharply on Adam’s door.

“Adam? You’d better open this door now. If you’re okay, you won’t be for long…”

Adam was clearly unmoved by her threats – if he heard them at all.

Kris swallowed hard, his mouth dry with inexplicable panic, as Amy took the master keycard for all of the rooms on their floor from her pocket and unlocked Adam’s door. Allison pushed past her into the room, apparently too anxious to worry about her manners – but she stopped short just inside, however, with a strangled little cry of horror that died on her lips.

“Alli, what…?” The stench of vomit hit Kris’s nostrils – the first actual evidence that something was indeed very wrong. He moved forward until he was standing beside her – and then froze, his stomach lurching, his heart caught in his throat. “God, _Adam_… no…”

Adam lay on the bed facing them, his eyes closed and his mouth slack with sleep – or something far worse. The puddle of vomit pooling between Adam’s pillow and the side of his face was clearly the source of the stink, and Kris wondered with a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach why, if Adam was sick, he hadn’t awakened enough to even clean himself up.

 

_He’s so pale, and… I can’t see his chest moving… is his chest moving? Oh, please let him be breathing…_

The entire scene was unsettling enough, but Kris’s stomach dropped when he heard Amy’s whispered words, directed at no one in particular.

“I… I just _gave_ him that bottle…”

Kris glanced at her, momentarily confused, then followed her gaze to the nightstand – where an empty prescription bottle sat beside a used glass.  Suddenly, stark, horrifying clarity came rushing in, with a depth of chilling fear that threatened to swallow him up. He couldn’t breathe… couldn’t think… could barely even pray.

 

_Please… please, God, no…_

Amy’s words seemed to have the opposite effect on Allison, shaking her out of her stupor, and she rushed forward to Adam’s side, shaking him in a desperate attempt to rouse him.

“Adam!” Her voice was high and shrill with terror. “Adam, wake up! _Wake up_!”

Kris just stood there for a moment that seemed to stretch out forever, frozen with shock and horror. He’d known that Adam was hurting; they all had. But none of them would ever have suspected that he’d take it to this point of final desperation. Kris’s world seemed to be spinning out of control as his mind tried to come to terms with the grim reality of what he was seeing, the terrible meaning of the empty bottle next to his friend’s still, lifeless form on the bed.

_Adam. No. Please, _no_. Adam… what have you _done_?_


	8. Chapter 8

“_Adam_! Adam, _wake up_!”

Allison’s voice was shrill and high, almost a scream, as she frantically shook her friend by the shoulders, desperately – and uselessly – trying to rouse him.

Amy quickly crossed the room to Adam’s side, her voice raised and trembling, but more controlled than Allison’s, though the edge of fear in her words was unmistakable.

“Adam? Adam, can you hear me?”

As she spoke she braced one knee on the side of the bed, reaching across it to grasp Adam’s wrist and feel for a pulse. With her free hand, she took her cell phone from her pocket and tossed it to Kris. It was only instinct that made him reach out to catch it instead of getting hit in the head.

 

Kris was still standing where he’d first seen Adam – frozen with horrified shock. He couldn’t take his eyes off Adam’s still, pale form on the bed and he couldn’t make his mind frame a more coherent thought than simply _No… no, please… not Adam… please, no…_

“Hey!” Amy said sharply, and Kris looked up at her blankly. “Call 9-1-1.”

 

_Oh, yeah… right._ Right!_ Come on, idiot, move!_

Kris hurriedly dialed the number, his hand trembling as he held the phone to his ear.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“Yes, my… my friend is unconscious, and I… I think he’s…” Kris swallowed hard, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly, as if in denial of the very words as he spoke them. “I think he’s overdosed on something…”

“He’s still breathing,” Amy announced, her shoulders falling, trembling with relief. “Pulse is weak, but… _there_.”

“Oh, thank God!” Allison sobbed, lowering her face to rest on Adam’s chest, tears streaming from her eyes. “Thank God… Adam… oh, _Adam_…”

Kris gave the 9-1-1 operator their location and whatever other information she asked for, responding only to direct questions, his wide eyes still locked onto the bed where Adam lay – his mind racing ahead, posing questions to which he wasn’t sure anyone would ever know the answers.

 

_How did we let this happen? How could he get this… this miserable, and desperate, and we… we just _missed _it. _

 

_Adam, why? What could be so horrible that you would… Why would you… why would you try to leave us?_

****************************************************

It was like slowly drifting up from underwater – but Adam wasn’t really sure he _wanted_ to come up.

Blank, empty nothingness – devoid of the pain and confusion of his recent weeks – gradually gave way to fear and uncertainty, and a deep, throbbing ache – as if there was a strong, insistent hammer pounding away at the inside of his skull. He tried to open his eyes, but the light seemed too bright. He swallowed – and then wanted to scream. His throat felt as if it was on fire.

He heard a sharp intake of breath at his side, and realized abruptly that he was not alone.

Adam forced himself to open his eyes, blinking through the pain until he could finally focus. He was not surprised to find himself in a hospital room – but he _was_ surprised to see Kris standing at his bedside. Kris’s eyes were red, but his face was dry, as he stared at Adam with stony blankness, his expression revealing no trace of emotion.

“How are you feeling?”

His very calm sparked an inexplicable anger in Adam, and he turned his head away, muttering words in a raspy whisper that barely resembled his voice, even to his own ears.

“Like hell.”

“Good.”

Adam turned his head back to glare at Kris indignantly, caught off guard by the harsh response. Now, there was a fire of anger in Kris’s eyes as well, as he continued sharply.

“Because that’s pretty much exactly what you deserve.”

Adam stared at him for a long moment before finally venturing an outraged response. “_What_?”

“Do you have any idea what it was like? Finding you like that?” Kris’s voice trembled, and now there were tears glittering in his eyes – but Adam was already too pissed off to care. “Lying there in your own puke, looking like you were dead already? Do you have any idea what that _felt_ like – to think that we’d _lost_ you?”

A faint twinge of guilt began to fight its way up past the anger and confusion, but Adam stubbornly pushed it back down, his jaw set with defiance as he rolled his eyes and turned his face away again.

“Right,” he snapped, his hoarse, quiet voice still dripping with scathing sarcasm. “I forgot that this is all about how I made _you_ feel. I’m _so sorry_ that my failing to die made your day harder...”

“What about _Allison’s _day?”

Kris’s sharp, accusing words stopped Adam’s rant in its tracks. His stomach lurched, and suddenly he couldn’t bring himself to look at Kris again – couldn’t face what he was afraid that he would find in his eyes.

“Hell, Adam, what about the rest of her life?” Kris continued, his voice trembling dangerously. “Do you realize that this whole thing has probably permanently scarred her?”

“It’s… it’s not _about_ her…”

Adam forced the words past his lips, but his heart ached with a heavy sense of regret at the agonizing mental image of Allison, and how she must have felt when she’d found out what he’d done. His voice was weak and trembling, and he couldn’t quite hide the trace of uncertainty in his words as he went on.

“I didn’t… _do_ this to… to hurt her… or _anyone_…”

“She’s the one who found you first, Adam. She’s the first one who saw you like that.”

Adam lowered his head, his face suddenly hot with shame. He closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly. “No,” he whispered.

“_Yes_.” Kris gradually seemed to be regaining control over his emotions, even as Adam felt that he was losing his. Adam heard rather than saw him move closer to the bed as he went on. “It was Alli who wanted to check on you. I said, ‘No, leave him alone, he’ll come to us if he needs to.’” Kris let out a bitter, painful laugh, and there were tears in his voice. “I would have let you _die_, Adam. I wouldn’t have… wouldn’t have checked on you, and no one would have found you until the morning… but… she insisted. She said… she was going to try to talk to you, whether you liked it or not. She was scared to death that you were gonna bite her head off for it, but she still wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Adam felt a hot stinging sensation behind his eyes, and raised his hands to press his palms over them, trying to fight back the deep, searing knot that was slowly tightening in his chest. He was angry at Kris and Allison for not just leaving him alone, for not letting him follow through with the plan that would have ended his suffering for good – and yet, an instinctive sense of relief came over him when he thought that they were almost too late.

 

_God,_ Alli_… I owe her my life. And… and she’s got to be a wreck right now…_

“Where is she?” Adam whispered, not looking up at Kris as he spoke.

“We just talked her into going back to the hotel to sleep for a few hours. She’s been here the entire time – all night.”

“All night?” Adam frowned, finally looking up at Kris, who no longer looked angry, just sort of… sad and confused. “H-how long have I…?”

“About four hours. They rushed you here in an ambulance and… and pumped your stomach. You stayed unconscious through all of it, but… they gave you something, too, I think. Some kind of a sedative or something… once they were sure all the other stuff was out of your system.”

Adam nodded slowly, accepting that information, but not sure how to respond to it. He just sat there, drumming his fingers nervously on the raised armrest of his hospital bed, feeling uncomfortable and guilty as an awkward silence descended between them.

***************************************

Kris just stood there for a long moment, silently waiting for a response that Adam seemed unwilling – or unable – to give. Kris thought that at this point, Adam really had no choice but to tell him _something_. It wasn’t exactly as if he could keep it a secret anymore – but Adam seemed determined to ignore that fact.

Finally, Kris broke the silence, his voice soft, sad, and searching, an aching question torn from his lips.

“Adam… _why_? Why would you do this?”

Adam just shook his head, turning his face away, blinking back the tears that rose to his eyes.

“Adam, come on. _Talk to me_,” Kris insisted, desperation in his trembling words. “You’ve been saying everything is fine for weeks, when anyone who’s known you for an _hour_ knows enough to know it’s not. You’ve been walking around in your own little world… shutting all of us _out_ of it… the whole time, and… and all we want to do is be _there_ for you, you know? Maybe… we could have done something, you know? Maybe… if you’d _told_ us…”

Adam looked up at him at last, his voice trembling but defiant. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” he insisted. “I don’t _want _to. You… there is _no way _that you could possibly understand.” Adam swallowed hard, wincing at the pain of the motion, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion as he struggled to go on. His words came out small and almost pleading as he concluded, “I just… I _can’t_, okay? I… can’t tell you.”

*********************************

Adam waited for the inevitable argument, bracing himself for resistance, but it didn’t come – not immediately, anyway. Kris was silent for a long moment, his dark eyes searching Adam’s face for some kind of answers. He drew in a deep breath, lowering his eyes as he slowly drew nearer to the bed, and then cautiously sat down on the edge of it. Finally, he looked up to meet Adam’s eyes again with a slow, careful nod.

He reached out, resting his elbow on the armrest on the other side of the bed to gently take Adam’s hand in his own. Adam stared down blankly at their joined hands, feeling a dull sort of surprise at the soft warmth of the touch – warmth that seemed to seep through the never-ending cold emptiness that had covered him… ever since _It_ had happened.

The gentle, affectionate touch felt strange and familiar at the same time – like something Adam should recognize, but couldn’t quite remember.

 

_God, has anyone even_ touched _me since… since…?_

“Adam… there’s just one thing,” Kris insisted softly, and Adam tensed, bracing himself for another demand, another intrusive question that he knew he wouldn’t be able to answer – though he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away from the comforting heat of Kris’s gentle touch. “Just… one thing I want you to tell me, and then… I’ll shut up. Okay?”

Adam didn’t respond, didn’t commit to anything – but he held Kris’s gaze, stiff and braced for the worst, already preparing himself to shut Kris down. Kris’s eyes were warm and soft with compassion as he gently squeezed Adam’s hand and spoke, his voice hushed and heartrendingly sincere.

“Adam… what do _you_ need… from _me_?” Kris hesitated, looking down for a moment before meeting Adam’s eyes again and clarifying, “How… how can I help?”

**********************************************

 

_Maybe I’ve just been going about this all wrong. Maybe we don’t have any right to demand the answers that we want from him. Maybe he’s right – and it’s just none of our business._

 

_Maybe… I’ve been too focused on what_ I _need… and not enough on… what_ he _needs._

Kris’s concern and curiosity were still screaming out for answers, but he managed to quell them for long enough to open himself up to Adam, to offer all that he could in a simple, honest question – and he was utterly unprepared for the response.

Adam just stared at him for a long moment in stunned silence – obviously caught completely off guard – before his hand tightened around Kris’s, his eyes brimming over with tears that he struggled to hold back… but only for a moment longer. As Kris watched, waiting for his answer – he got it. Adam’s shoulders began to quake, and he reached out his free hand to grasp Kris’s hand between both of his own. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but couldn’t find words – so he just slowly lowered his head until it was resting on their joined hands, his body shaking with broken sobs.

Kris felt something break within him as well, as Adam’s defensive walls seemed to shatter around him. He moved in closer, reaching out his free arm to wrap around Adam’s shaking shoulders and pull him closer as he drew his own legs up under him onto the bed, shifting nearer to Adam. Adam responded to the wordless offer of comfort, turning his body so that his head rested on Kris’s knees, their hands still joined together on the armrest. Kris didn’t know what to say, or what he could do, but simply what he _was_ doing – so he gently ran his free hand through Adam’s hair, holding him close and murmuring nonsense words of comfort as he blinked back the tears that rose to his own eyes.

“It’s all right, Adam. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right…”


	9. Chapter 9

For a long time, Adam clung to Kris and cried, his face buried in Kris’s lap, hot tears soaking through the worn fabric of Kris’s jeans. Kris just sat there on the bed, gently caressing Adam’s hair and whispering meaningless words of comfort, wishing he knew what to say to help – wishing he knew what was wrong in the first place.

 

He didn’t ask, just held Adam and did his best to soothe him.

_If he wants to tell me… he will. _

 

_And if he doesn’t, I’ll just… be here. Whatever he needs. I can do that._

 

Adam’s voice was hoarse and muffled against Kris’s knees when he finally spoke, the words barely distinguishable from the sob that carried them forth.

 

“I just… I just wanted it to _stop_. I just… didn’t know how else to… to make it be _over_…”

 

Kris bit back the question that screamed in his thoughts, forcing himself to just keep quiet and let Adam say what he needed to say.

 

_What?_ What _did you want to stop? What could possibly be so horrible that you’d rather be _ dead _ than here, with me, and dealing with it?_

 

_Please… please talk to me…_

 

“I’ve just been so… so… alone, and… and confused, and… _scared_…”

 

Adam choked out the words, his fingers trembling as he held onto Kris’s hand so tightly that it hurt – but Kris didn’t pull away. He kept up the soothing, gentle caress of his fingertips through Adam’s hair, murmuring what reassurance he could once Adam fell silent again.

 

“You’re not alone, Adam. I’m right here. You’re okay… everything’s going to be okay…”

After a little while, Adam began to relax against Kris, his body heavy with weariness, and Kris could tell that he was getting sleepy. Considering the sedative the doctors had administered a couple of hours earlier, Kris was really surprised that Adam was awake at all at this point. 

 

“Come on, Adam. You need to rest,” he urged him softly as he gently pushed Adam back against the pillows.

 

Adam resisted a little, making a soft sound of protest at the loss of contact – but Kris silenced that protest by immediately lying down beside him and wrapping his arm around Adam’s waist. Adam’s eyes widened with surprise, and he opened his mouth as if to argue – but then fell silent, simply resting his head on Kris’s shoulder and closing his eyes as he nestled gratefully in closer to Kris’s side.

 

“It’s all right,” Kris whispered. “Just rest, Adam. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

******************************************

 

As promised, Kris was still beside Adam when he awakened a couple of hours later.

 

Kris hadn’t slept a moment, his mind racing, trying to put the pieces together in his mind. He was relieved just to know that Adam was finally opening up enough to admit that he was hurting at all; but he was still worried, wondering what it was that could be so terrible that it would drive Adam to such a state of final desperation.

 

Adam seemed uncertain, glancing at Kris uneasily every few seconds, biting his lower lip with a wary frown. He was tense and quiet, visibly bracing himself for Kris to broach the questions he’d foregone earlier – but Kris had no intention of breaking that promise, no matter how badly he wanted to.

 

As Kris simply rested his head on Adam’s shoulder and lay there with him in silence, Adam gradually began to relax against him, gratefully accepting the no-strings-attached comfort Kris was offering.

 

It was to be a short-lived peace, unfortunately.

 

Adam had been awake a little less than thirty minutes when the door to his room opened, and a woman in a white lab coat entered. Her face bore a warm, pleasant expression as she met Adam’s gaze.

 

“Hello, Adam. How are you feeling?”

 

Adam eyed her suspiciously, ignoring her question and its rather obvious answer. “Who are you?”

 

“I’m Dr. Atwood. I’m a suicide counselor here at the hospital. I was hoping we’d be able to talk for a few minutes,” she explained, sitting down in the chair beside Adam’s bed with a disarming smile.

 

At the moment, Adam was not one to be easily disarmed.

 

His voice was cool and calm as he met her eyes with quiet defiance. “Well, I don’t see any reason why I would need to talk to you, considering the fact that I didn’t attempt to commit suicide.”

 

Kris frowned, confused, turning suspicious eyes to study Adam’s face. Adam studiously ignored him, focusing his challenging gaze on Dr. Atwood, waiting for her response. Her expression matched what Kris was feeling, as she turned her attention toward him and spoke softly.

 

“Could you excuse us for a few moments? I’d like to speak with Adam alone.”

 

*************************************

 

Kris paced anxiously back and forth outside Adam’s room, glancing every few seconds through the window that separated him from the rather tense conversation Adam was having with Dr. Atwood. She was speaking emphatically, gesturing with her hands, clearly trying to make a point – but Adam was having none of it. His demeanor remained cool and detached as he answered whatever questions she was asking him, until finally, Dr. Atwood left the room, her clenched jaw and averted gaze making her frustration clear.

 

Kris hesitantly stepped back into the room, going silently to Adam’s side and sitting down on the edge of his bed again. Adam stared down at the blanket, his jaw set stubbornly, refusing to make eye contact with Kris. Finally, Kris broke the silence, his words low and cautious.

 

“So… if this wasn’t a suicide attempt…”

 

“If I tell them it was a suicide attempt, they won’t let me leave.” Adam didn’t look at him, his words flat and matter-of-fact. “It’s the law. They’d have to hold me for some kind of psych evaluation. So… I said I was just trying to get high.”

 

Kris’s eyes widened with dismay. “Adam!”

 

“What? It’s not like they can do anything to me for it!” Adam protested, immediately defensive. “I had the prescription legally. So… I said I was just… experimenting with them. I said I knew it was stupid, but I’m very sorry, and it will never happen again.” Adam finally met Kris’s gaze, something in his eyes pleading for understanding rather than judgment. “That way… they have to let me leave. It’s… it’s not like I have a choice.”

 

Kris hesitated a moment before relenting with a slow nod, reaching out to take Adam’s hand in his own. “I… I get it. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

 

But he didn’t quite believe his own words – and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe Adam _should_ be held at the hospital, instead of being allowed to simply leave, and possibly make a second attempt at ending his own life.

Regardless of what Kris thought was better, he knew that there was nothing he or the hospital or anyone else could do to _prove_ beyond all doubt what had been Adam’s motivation for taking the pills. Two hours later, all the paperwork was in order, and Adam was cleared to go back to the hotel. 

 

Kris thought that it made the whole situation seem that much more surreal – as if Adam’s suicide attempt might have been nothing more than a vivid, terrifying nightmare from which he’d just awakened. But the quiet heaviness that covered them during the ride back to the hotel brought the reality of it back to the surface, and Kris wondered again, uneasily, if being released was really the best thing for Adam.

 

He hesitated briefly when they reached the door to Adam’s room – but Adam caught his hand in an almost desperate grip, tugging him forward a little, before letting go and walking into his room. It was a not-subtle-at-all hint as to what he wanted, and Kris felt a tremendous sense of relief at not having to push the issue of not leaving Adam alone.

 

Not that he’d intended to anyway, even if Adam had been shoving him away instead.

 

And apparently, Kris was not the only one with that particular idea in mind.

 

Allison was waiting in Adam’s freshly cleaned room, sitting in the middle of the bed where they’d found him a few hours earlier, her knees drawn up in front of her, her arms wrapped tightly around them. As Adam and Kris both stopped short in surprise, she rose from the bed and slowly closed the distance between them. Her eyes glittered with tears, her jaw set with anger, her tiny fists clenched at her sides in barely repressed fury. Her voice was low and hoarse as she glared up at Adam resentfully and broke the tense silence that had fallen.

 

“You _asshole_.”

 

He didn’t respond at first, his eyes wide and stricken with guilt at the obvious hurt in her words. Her shoulders began to shake as she raised one fist and struck out against his chest, her voice breaking over her reproachful words.

 

“I _hate_ you.”

 

Adam took both blows with no attempt at retaliation or self-defense, closing his eyes and swallowing hard.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby girl…”

 

The tender words seemed to break something within her, and Allison was suddenly sobbing. She threw her arms around Adam’s waist, burying her face against his chest and clinging to him desperately.

 

“I thought you were dead!” she sobbed. “Don’t you know I _love _you?” She shook her head against him, her next words barely audible, but bringing a tearful smile to Kris’s face, despite the fact that she was far from laughing. “You stupid _jerk_…”

 

Adam raised one cautious hand to run through her hair, wrapping his other arm around her and holding her close. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly. “Forgive me, Alli?”

 

Allison drew back at last, glaring at him, her face streaked with tears. “Don’t ever do that to me again! I… I don’t know what I’d do if anything… if you were really… just… _don’t_ , okay? _Okay_ ?” There was a pleading urgency in her trembling voice as she searched his face for the answer, eyes wide and tearful.

 

“Okay,” Adam whispered, nodding slowly.

 

“_Promise_,” Allison demanded. “Adam, _promise_ me!”

 

“I promise.” He complied, pulling her close again, bowing his head over hers, silent tears streaming down his face as well. “I promise, Alli, I won’t…”

 

The three of them ended up cuddled together on the one king-sized bed. They turned the television on, but none of them was really paying attention to the old sitcoms that played one after another on the classic television station they had found. It was mindless entertainment, something to keep them from having to focus on the troubling reality they were all trying to avoid.

If Kris knew Allison at all, he was fairly certain that she was just as desperate to know what had driven Adam to his reckless actions as Kris was. However, she showed more instinctive perception than he had, in that she didn’t ask him, not even once. She simply lay beside him on the bed, her head resting on his chest, holding onto him as if she was afraid to let him go. 

 

Kris lay on Adam’s other side, his head resting on Adam’s shoulder as he tried not to fall asleep. He was fairly certain that Adam would not be attempting anything again that night – not if the way he’d reacted to Allison’s pain was any indication – but he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he needed to be keeping watch. His protective instincts were at the fore, demanding that he stay awake and make sure that Adam was okay.

_Not that he’d be on his own if you_ did _fall asleep. _

 

Kris couldn’t suppress an affectionate smile at the way Allison was holding onto Adam – protective, almost fierce, and glancing up at him anxiously every few minutes, as if trying to reassure herself that he was really there and all right.

 

Still… Kris couldn’t bring himself to leave the task of looking after Adam in Allison’s hands.

 

After a little while, Adam shifted uneasily on the bed, letting out a weary sigh. “You guys don’t have to stay,” he informed them softly. “I mean… I appreciate it and all, but… you can go to bed any time you like. I’ll be fine…”

 

“Adam?” Allison’s voice was deceptively sweet.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Seriously, guys…”

 

“Seriously…” Allison echoed, her voice taking on a vaguely warning tone. “_Shut up_. If you think we’re going _anywhere _after the crap you pulled earlier, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

 

Adam raised a single eyebrow as he looked down at her dubiously. “Gee. Thanks.”

 

But after a few moments, Adam settled down more comfortably between them. Kris was relieved that he seemed to be relaxing and accepting their presence, despite his reluctance. He wondered if perhaps Adam might be uncertain _himself _ as to what he might end up doing if he was left alone. Adam was always the protective, nurturing member of the group, so it was no wonder that he was uncomfortable with being so doted upon; but for the moment, he seemed to be willing to accept it, snuggling down under the blankets and resting his head on Kris’s shoulder and his arm around Allison’s back.

 

Half an hour later, a sharp knock at the door shattered the peaceful stillness, and Kris felt Adam’s body tense against his. Kris got out of the bed and went to the door, calling through it, “Who is it?”

 

“Anoop.”

 

Kris glanced at Adam for affirmation, only opening the door once Adam nodded, albeit with a wary frown.

 

Anoop stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before looking between the three of them, a single brow raised in a questioning expression.

“So, um… anybody have any idea why every official on this tour and a half a dozen cops are all camped out around Michael’s room?”


	10. Chapter 10

Kris stared at Anoop, mystified.

 

_ Cops? Why would there be cops in Michael's room? _

 

He glanced over at Allison, who had dozed off at Adam's side about half an hour earlier. She had been awakened by Anoop's knock, and was now blinking up at him in sleepy confusion, as if trying to figure out why he was standing in Adam's doorway.

 

Kris’s gaze continued to Adam – and froze when he saw the way Adam was staring at Anoop with wide, terrified eyes. All the color had drained from his face, and he was visibly trembling, shaking his head slowly.

 

“No,” he whispered, then repeated it again and again, his voice rising with each word until he was nearly shouting as he scrambled up off of the bed and headed toward the door. “No, no, _no_!”

 

Anoop automatically moved back when Adam neared him, eyes wide and startled, making sur he had room to pass. Kris watched for a moment, concerned and confused, as Adam stalked down the hallway toward Michael's room – then took off after him, ignoring the sound of Allison's worried voice from inside Adam's room.

 

“Guys? What is it? What's going on?”

 

By the time Kris caught up with Adam, he was standing just inside Michael's room. Kris stopped in the doorway, taking a moment to take in the scene before him.

 

Michael was sitting on the end of his bed, his head bowed, talking quietly to a uniformed police officer who was seated in a chair facing him. Two more police officers stood across the room, having a hushed conversation between themselves. Amy sat at the table on the other side of the bed, her head resting in her hands. Another tour official stood beside her, surveying the scene.

 

When he saw Adam standing there, the official said something that was too soft for Kris to make out over the numerous other voices that filled the room; but it made Amy look up, her eyes wide and stricken when they fell on Adam. Kris had no problem reading the single word that fell from her lips as she rose to her feet.

 

“_Shit._..”

 

Kris barely had a moment to wonder why she looked strangely _guilty_ , before his attention was drawn away from her. Adam's hands were clenched in white-knuckled fists as he took a couple of steps closer to Michael. As his shadow fell over him, Michael looked up – and froze in horror, staring up at Adam, his lips parted but silent in the middle of whatever word he'd been saying. Adam's voice was low and trembling with rage as he glared down at Michael. 

 

“What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?”

 

Michael's face fell into an expression of guilt and sorrow, and he shook his head sadly. “Adam, I... I _had_ to...”

 

“_Why_?” Adam demanded. “Why did you _have_ to, Michael? So you could get it off your conscience? Is that it? So you could feel better about _yourself_?”

 

Michael flinched, trying again to explain. “Adam...”

 

“_It wasn't yours to tell_!” 

 

Adam's voice rose until he was nearly screaming, and he moved even further into Michael's space. Kris braced himself, almost certain that Adam was about to hit Michael. The officer who had been questioning Michael seemed to be worried about the same thing, because he rose from his chair and stepped between Adam and Michael, holding out a warning hand in Adam's direction. Adam didn't advance any further, but he didn't back down, either.

 

“Adam... I'm sorry...” Michael tried again, weakly – and quickly cut off as Adam went on.

 

“It doesn't matter to you what you're putting me through by doing this, does it?” he observed bitterly. “_I_ should be able to decide if people know about this – how to _deal_ with this, but... you've taken _that_ away from me, too, and... you don't even _care_! Why _should _you? You didn't care when you... when you...” Adam's voice choked over the words, and he shook his head, unable to go on, his shoulders shaking as he broke down. He turned his head away, swallowing hard and closing his eyes against the tears that squeezed out against his will, struggling to retain his composure for a long, tense moment, before finally looking up again at Michael, his eyes blazing with fierce hatred. His words were barely over a whisper, and Kris had to struggle to make them out – but they made Michael flinch as if he'd been slapped.

 

“What – the first time wasn't _enough_ for you?”

 

Michael closed his eyes, his jaw clenched with repressed emotion, as he turned his head away. Adam simply stood there for a moment, his shoulders shaking with the sobs he was struggling to hold back. After a moment of tense, awkward silence, Kris ventured forward, reaching out a tentative hand toward Adam's shoulder – but he'd barely brushed his sleeve when Adam jerked away violently, spinning on his heel and retreating past Kris, back out into the hallway.

 

When Kris turned automatically to go, he saw that Allison was standing just outside the door, an expression of mingled curiosity and concern in her eyes. She immediately followed after Adam, and Kris could hear her uncertain words fading away down the hallway.

 

“Adam? Adam, what's wrong? _Talk_ to me...!”

 

Kris turned back toward Michael, studying the larger man's shaken demeanor for a long moment, his mind racing, struggling to catch up with all the new information it had received in the last few minutes, and to somehow make it make sense. The anguished expression of guilt on Michael's face took on a whole new level of significance, with the echo of Adam's words behind it.

 

Kris took a cautious step toward Michael, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender when the officer beside him visibly tensed, clearly expecting another confrontation. But Kris didn't move any closer to Michael, didn't attempt to touch him – didn't even raise his voice. He waited until Michael looked up at him in a reluctant question before breaking the silence, his voice soft and measured.

 

“What did you do?”

 

Michael did not respond – not that Kris had expected him to. He simply looked away again, swallowing hard and closing his eyes, his jaw quivering dangerously. Knowing that any further attempts to get the information he wanted from Michael would be useless, Kris turned and left the room, heading back down the hall toward Adam's room.

 

_Not that Adam is any _ more _likely to tell me anything..._

 

He could hear Adam and Allison arguing through the open door of the room long before he reached it, and his relief at finding that door not yet locked and barring him out was overpowered by the pain and fury he heard in both voices.

 

“I said _get out_! Just leave me alone!” Adam sounded as if he was on the verge of frustrated tears.

 

“Not a chance!” Allison immediately retorted, as Kris rounded the corner and entered the room, swiftly closing the door behind him to shut out any other curious listeners. “You think I'd actually leave you _alone_ right now? After what happened _last_ time?”

 

“I want you to _get out_!” Adam shouted, ceasing his frenetic pacing for a moment in order to turn his furious gaze toward Kris, throwing up his hands in frustration when he saw him standing there. “_Both_ of you! Just leave me alone!”

 

Kris kept his voice level and calm as he slowly approached Adam, hands outstretched in a deliberately non-threatening gesture. “Adam... I'm pretty sure you can understand why we're not exactly comfortable doing that right now... right?”

 

“I'm not going to _do_ anything!” Adam insisted with a bitter, tearful laugh. “I just want everybody to get out of my face and let me _deal_ with this...!”

 

“But you're _not_ dealing with it!” Allison pointed out, tears streaking her cheeks. “Adam, why won't you just tell us what's going on? Whatever this is, you can't keep going on like this. Why won't you just tell me?”

 

“Because I can't tell _anyone_...” Adam shook his head, raising a hand to cover his eyes for a moment as he drew in a deep shaky breath. When he lowered his hand to meet Allison's eyes, his expression was defeated, despairing. “You wouldn't understand...”

 

“Maybe I would,” she persisted, edging nearer to him. “Adam, please... maybe I'd understand...”

 

“How could you?” Adam's voice was bitter, edged with resentment and frustrated rage. “When _I _don't even understand...” He was quiet for a moment, looking away and shaking his head. “I just... I don't want anyone to know...”

 

“Well, um... whatever it is... you might wanna tell the people who actually love you and care about your privacy _now_...” Kris pointed out softly, but there was an edge to his voice that made Adam look up sharply to meet his eyes. “... because... something tells me that whatever it is... it's not going to be a secret for very much longer.”

 

Adam's face paled, and he glanced toward the door with an expression of dread, even as Kris went on quietly.

 

“Whatever it is has to be pretty serious for the police to be involved – and there's no way in the world that every person in that room is going to keep their mouths shut when it comes to the press.” He paused a second, giving his words a few moments to sink in. “If it's that big a deal... I don't think you want your family and friends reading about it in the tabloids.”

 

Adam drew in a sharp, shuddering breath, raising his hands to cover his face as he sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed behind him, as if his legs suddenly lacked the strength to hold him up any longer.

 

“No,” he protested, shaking his head, his voice coming out as a pleading moan, fading into a small, frantic whimper as he repeated the word again and again. “No, no, _please_ no...”

 

Allison went to Adam and sat down beside him, putting a cautious arm around his shoulders. Kris tensed, expecting the worst – but Adam did not draw away from her comforting gesture. Allison leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice soft and innocent as she offered reassurance that Kris already knew to be false, even without knowing for certain what Adam was hiding.

 

“It's not like we're going to see you any differently, Adam. Nothing's _that_ terrible.”

 

Adam let out a low groan, his shoulders shaking as he whispered, “You have _no idea_ .”

 

The shame and despair in his voice made it clear to Kris that Adam was not going to tell his secret as long as Allison was there. Her innocence and utter confidence that it simply _could not_ be as bad as Adam thought it was were well meant, Kris knew – but they also made it impossible for Adam to be able to bring himself to shatter that innocence by opening up. Kris moved to the side of the bed and placed a gentle hand on Allison's shoulder, waiting until she looked up to meet his eyes in a silent question.

 

“Alli, honey... can you give us a minute?”

 

Allison frowned, her lips parted to protest, glancing reluctantly between Adam and Kris for a moment – but then she sighed, her shoulders falling in acceptance as she gently squeezed Adam's shoulders before rising to her feet. She headed for the door, opening it, but then turning back for a moment, hesitating. 

 

She broke the silence, her voice soft and honest as she stated simply, “I love you, Adam. No matter what.”

 

Adam didn't respond, just sat there, unnaturally still and silent, his face still covered with his shaking hands. Only once the door had closed behind her did he let out a shuddering sob, shaking his head in despair.

 

Kris carefully slid to his knees in front of Adam, reaching up to gently take his hands and pull them down away from his face, holding them in his own on Adam's knees. Adam offered little resistance, but he did not look up to meet Kris's gaze, either, keeping his own eyes stubbornly shut.

 

“Adam...” Kris kept his voice soft and soothing, running his thumb slowly back and forth across the back of Adam's hand. “... I know you've been... pushing me away. Pushing _everyone_ away. Lashing out, like at Alli, a few minutes ago. But... she's not the one who deserves that, and... and neither am I.” Kris paused, his mind going back to the painful image of Adam, pale and unconscious and barely clinging to life in the hospital bed a few hours earlier. “And... neither are you.”

 

Adam didn't respond, gave no indication that he'd even heard Kris's words – but he didn't pull his hands away, and his trembling seemed to be gradually subsiding.

 

“Come on, Adam. Talk to me,” Kris urged him gently. He hesitated a moment, drawing in a deep breath before forcing out the question he knew was the right one, and yet could barely bring himself to ask.

 

“What... what did he do to you?”


	11. Chapter 11

_“What did he do to you?”_

The answer to that simple question was all Adam had thought about, all that had consumed him and tormented him for the past several weeks. The words alone drew an agony of vivid memories to his mind, and he closed his eyes, shaking his head in a vain attempt to ward them off.

 

It was so painfully clear in his mind – and yet, there was no way he could even begin to find the words.

 

_Just a little while longer, and you won’t have to… _A shiver ran down Adam’s spine._ The whole world will know. All of it. Every detail. You should tell him, before he hears it on the news, and knows everything and draws his own conclusions…_

_But… I can’t. I _just can’t_. Please… please, no…_

 

Adam stared down at Kris’s hands, warm and reassuring, covering his own. His eyes welled with tears, obscuring his vision, and he closed them again, shaking his head in despair, choking back a sob as he struggled to force hoarse, whispered words past his trembling lips.

 

“I… I can’t… please, Kris, I just… I _can’t_…”

 

“Talk to me, Adam,” Kris coaxed him gently, running his thumb across the back of Adam’s hand. Adam could _feel_ his earnest gaze, searching, willing Adam to look at him – but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. “Come on, Adam. Whatever happened – it’s not gonna change anything, okay?” Adam felt Kris’s hand gently squeeze his, as he continued firmly, “Not for me. Not… for us. Okay? Whatever this is – I’m right here with you, and you’re not going to have to go through it alone, all right? I’m not going to blame you or look at you differently…”

 

Kris’s words only made everything worse – because Adam knew that he was wrong.

 

_He only says that because he doesn’t _know_. How can he possibly hear what happened – what he did to me – and _not_ see me differently? He won’t be able to help it. It’s going to change _everything_._

“Whatever happened… this isn’t your fault, Adam,” Kris went on softly, with a certainty that tore at Adam’s heart. “No one’s going to blame you for anything…”

_But… it _was _my fault. If I’d just… if I’d just let it go, not pushed him so much… he would never have… wouldn’t have…_

 

“No, no it wasn’t, Adam,” Kris murmured, and Adam looked up at him abruptly as he realized that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. “I don’t care what you think you did. It wasn’t your fault, I promise…”

 

“It… it _was_,” Adam insisted, the words falling from his lips in a hoarse, broken whisper. “I… I shouldn’t have gone down to the bar that night. I was just… just… upset, and… needed a… a distraction…”

 

He looked away again, his face flushing with shame at the remembrance of why he’d needed a distraction in the first place. Kris was trying so hard to be supportive, but Adam had a hard time believing that he’d stay so supportive if he knew that the whole reason Adam had gone to the bar that night was because he was jealous that Kris was getting a visit – and a lot more than that – from his wife.

 

“Did anyone go down with you?” Kris asked, his voice calm and soothing, but barely covering a sharp edge. Adam knew he was mentally assessing the situation as he heard it, already trying to put the pieces together.

 

“M-Michael. And… most of the guys. Not Danny. Not… not you.”

 

“Okay.” Kris frowned. “What happened then?”

 

“I guess there was… this guy. I was… talking to him, and… and he bought me a drink. At least, that’s what they told me later…”

Kris’s frown deepened with confusion, and he shook his head slightly. “They told you _later_? Okay… who’s _they_?”

 

“Anoop. Matt.” Adam swallowed hard, struggling to steady his voice, but it still broke a little over the last name, as his mind flooded with vivid, agonizing memories. “M-Michael.”

 

“Okay…” Kris cautiously interjected when Adam didn’t go on for a while. “Did this guy… try something, or…? What happened?”

 

“He… I guess he… put something in my drink. I don’t… don’t really remember him at all, just… just what they told me, but… next thing I knew, I was… on the bed, and… and Michael was…”

 

He hesitated, his face hot with shame, unable to raise his head, but unable to bring himself to stop talking, either, now that he’d started. It was as if a massive floodgate had opened, and the pressure that had been building behind his confession was simply too great to allow him to close it again.

 

Kris quietly rose from where he knelt in front of Adam, sitting down on the side of the bed beside him and putting a cautious, gentle arm around him. Adam found himself leaning into the reassuring contact without really meaning to, grateful for even that small physical affection after the long weeks he’d spent in self-imposed isolation.

 

He hadn’t realized how much it had cost him – withdrawing from all of those closest to him, pulling further and further into himself until the only company he had was his own tortured thoughts. It hit him with a shock – the memory that he and Kris used to be like this _all the time_ – touching without caring who was looking, offering affection with such openness and ease.

 

_Oh, Kris…_

 

Adam’s throat ached with the sob that rose up in it as he pressed in closer to his friend, burying his face against Kris’s shoulder.

 

_I’ve missed you _so much_…_

 

Kris just tightened his arms around Adam, rocking slightly. Adam felt the soft brush of his lips against his temple, reassuring and protective, as he waited in silence for Adam to find the courage to go on.

 

It was that realization, that Kris was still waiting for the rest of the story, that forced Adam to raise his head a little, his eyes still downcast as he struggled to get the words out, his voice hushed and trembling.

 

“He was taking… m-my clothes off. I… I just remember bits and pieces, but… he was… in the bed, and… and touching me… and…” He shook his head, swallowing back a sob as hot tears streaked his face. “I… I only remember a little… until… until I woke up…”

 

“Wait, so… this _random guy_… that you don’t remember _at all_… drugged your drink, and then… _Michael_ ended up… in bed with you?” Kris’s tone was soft, gentle, but his expression was filled with clear suspicion. “And who told you that’s how it happened – Michael?”

 

“Yes, but… but I think… I think it was true,” Adam whispered miserably, wishing that he could confirm Kris’s quite reasonable suspicions.

 

It all would have been so much easier if he could have blamed Michael for all of it – but he couldn’t.

 

_Everyone _thinks _it’s their fault, yeah, but… but this time, with me… it_ is_. It really is._

 

****************************************

 

“I… I _didn’t_… think it was true, then,” Adam explained. “When I woke up, I was… in Michael’s clothes, and… I remembered… Michael carrying me, and… and touching me, and… I assumed… he’d… I just… I shouldn’t have _assumed_…”

 

Kris frowned, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly, trying to make sense of Adam’s story. It seemed clear enough from what Adam was telling him that Michael had at the very least taken advantage of Adam when he’d been drugged and helpless, and had quite possibly drugged him himself – as difficult as it was for him to accept the idea that the person he’d come to view as a friend was capable of something like that.

 

What _wasn’t_ clear was why _Adam_ didn’t seem to think it had happened that way.

 

“Adam… it’s more than just an assumption, right? I mean… Michael _did_… attack you. Didn’t he?”

 

Adam was quiet for a long moment, his eyes focused on his lap as he swallowed slowly, struggling to find the strength to speak. When at last he answered, his voice was barely over a whisper, hoarse and painful.

 

“Y-yes…”

 

Kris had known – on some level, of course he’d _known_, pretty much from the moment Adam had freaked out on Michael in his room a little while ago – but the single whispered word still struck him like a slap in the face. His stomach lurched, and he felt a cold, sick feeling creeping down his spine.

 

_No… please, no, that _can’t_ be what happened… not this… not to_ Adam…

 

“… but… not when I thought he did,” Adam went on, his voice sounding small and defeated. “Not… not while I was… drugged.”

 

Kris was more confused than ever.

 

“Then… what…?”

 

“I… I woke up and kinda… freaked out,” Adam confessed softly, tears streaking his face as he shook his head, his self-disgust clear on his face. “I started… yelling at him and… and accusing him of… of drugging me, and… and he kept saying he didn’t do anything, he just helped me get upstairs safely, but… I didn’t believe him, and… and I wouldn’t let it go, and… and he just kept getting angrier and angrier. He said… if he’d… if he’d fucked me, I’d have known it, and… and I…” Adam lowered his head, raising one hand to cover his face as he concluded miserably, “… I was so _stupid_. I shouldn’t have said it, but…”

 

“What?” Kris kept his voice hushed and soothing as he gently brushed Adam’s hair back from his face – trying to keep his own building rage at bay long enough to let Adam get his story out. “What did you say, Adam?”

 

“I said… _not necessarily_…”

 

Kris winced, imagining the anger and humiliation those words must have inspired, and mentally bracing himself for what he was about to hear.

 

“… and… and I guess he just… _snapped_.”

 

A cold, uneasy feeling began to settle in the pit of Kris’s stomach as the pieces began to fall into place, forming an incredibly disturbing picture of what had driven Michael to such uncharacteristic behavior, and the brutality that had been inflicted on Adam as a result. He gently squeezed Adam’s hand in silent support and encouragement for him to go on, but kept silent, wanting to allow Adam to tell the story at his own pace.

 

“He… he hit me, and… and I tried to fight him, but… I was still kinda… kinda out of it, and… I couldn’t get away from him.” The tremor in Adam’s quiet, haunted voice set a deep ache in Kris’s chest, and he swallowed hard, though the action was difficult past the cold knot that had formed in his throat. “He… he threw me on the bed, and… and said… since I was so sure he’d already done it, then… then he might as well prove me right.”

 

“Oh, Adam…” Kris whispered, gently pulling Adam’s head down onto his shoulder. “Shh, it’s over. You’re safe,” he reminded him, holding him close as Adam’s tears overtook him, his body shuddering with the breathless, broken sobs torn from his throat.

 

“I just… I tried to fight him, but… he was just… t-too strong, and… and I was just so _stupid_! If I’d just kept my mouth shut and not tried to get to him, he never would have done it! He wouldn’t have _touched_ me if I’d just let it go and… and accepted… what he said… I was just so stupid, and…”

 

“Adam, no,” Kris cut him off, shaking his head as he slowly ran his fingers through Adam’s hair, trying to soothe him even as his own tears stained his face. It was difficult to speak past the hard knot in his throat, but he made himself go on, though he was not sure if he was really getting through to Adam at all. “Anyone would have thought what you thought. Anyone would have made the same assumption. Why’d he change your clothes in the first place? Why do you remember him touching you when you were in his bed?”

 

Kris waited until Adam looked up at him, confusion in his tearful eyes. He held Adam’s gaze, his words careful and measured, doing his best to focus on what Adam needed to hear, and not the blind fury that was swiftly rising up within him at the thought of the extreme violation that Adam had endured.

 

“Adam… he was _way_ out of line before you ever said a word to him.”

 

Adam lowered his gaze, considering Kris’s words, as Kris went on softly.

 

“A normal person loses his temper and like… yells back. _Maybe_ throws a punch or two. A normal, _healthy_ person does _not… ever_… do what he did to you. Okay?”

 

Adam nodded, but his gaze remained averted, his face lowered in shame.

 

“If he had it in him to do that, then… sooner or later, he would have done it anyway. If not to you, then to _someone_… and anything you said or did doesn’t change that. Look at me, Adam.” Adam just shook his head in silent refusal. “Come on, Adam. Look at me,” Kris persisted, reaching out a gentle hand to tilt Adam’s face back up toward his.

 

When Adam finally, reluctantly complied, Kris went on in a firm, certain tone that left no room for argument.

 

“This was not your fault. Okay? Nothing you could ever do or say could possibly have made this your fault. No matter what you did to him – _nothing_ justifies this.” He paused a moment, feeling a sense of relief and cautious satisfaction when Adam seemed to relax a little against him, and Adam lowered his face against Kris’s shoulder again.

 

“I’ve been so… so… confused, and… and so fuckin’ _scared_,” Adam confessed, pressing his face against the soft cotton of Kris’s shirt and clinging to him with trembling hands.

 

Kris could feel Adam’s body slowly relaxing against his, becoming heavy and still as his tears began to subside, and the relief of unburdening himself from the secret he’d kept for so long gradually overtook him.

 

“I know… I know, Adam…”

 

Kris murmured whatever meaningless soothing words came to his mind, rocking slowly back and forth in what he hoped was a comforting manner – but he really _didn’t_ know. He couldn’t imagine what the last few weeks had to have been like for Adam, keeping this kind of a secret from everyone, feeling forced to shut everyone else out – and all he while living within such close proximity to the man who had so violated him, having to deal with the constant fear and uncertainty…

 

Kris had been at a loss, utterly confused as to what might have driven Adam to just give up, to try to take his own life.

 

Now – he just wondered how Adam had managed to hold up for so long.

 

A faint shudder passed through Adam, and he pressed himself closer against Kris, drawing Kris’s attention back to him as he whispered in a tone of utter dread, “Now… now everybody’s gonna know…”

 

“It’s gonna be all right, Adam,” Kris promised, with new conviction in his voice now that he really knew what he was promising. “You’re not going to have to deal with this alone, okay? Your family loves you, and will be here for you. _I_ love you. You know Allison would do _anything_ for you. We’ll all be here to help you through this, no matter what.” Kris was quiet for a moment, before continuing cautiously, “I… I know you didn’t want him to say anything. I know that… that should have been up to you, whenever… _you_ were ready. But… maybe it’s actually for the best, Adam. I mean… keeping this inside was literally _killing_ you. You were ready to… to _die_ before you would say anything, and… at least this means that he can’t hurt you anymore, right? I mean… he’s going to jail. You don’t have to deal with him, day after day, having to pretend like nothing’s wrong. You… you can feel safe again.”

 

Adam raised his head from Kris’s shoulder, and the look of utter despair in his eyes seemed to knock the breath from Kris’s lungs as Adam shook his head, glancing down before meeting Kris’s eyes again.

 

“You… you don’t get it,” he whispered, broken and defeated. “Kris… I’m not sure I’ll _ever_ feel safe again.”


	12. Chapter 12

_“I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe again.”_

 

Kris’s heart sank – because Adam’s choice of words left him no argument.

 

He could point out all the reasons that Michael would never be able to hurt him again. He could explain how security would be more careful than ever for the rest of the tour, and wouldn’t allow him to get near anyone that could drug his drink, or anything remotely similar. He could promise to stay by his side and watch out for him, and never let anyone hurt him again – and he could mean it with every ounce of commitment within him.

 

He _did_.

 

But – none of that could possibly change the way that Adam _felt_.

 

Kris couldn’t think of any words that would help, so he didn’t offer any. He just held Adam closer, running one firm but gentle hand up and down Adam’s back in slow, reassuring circles. Gradually, he felt Adam’s shaking begin to subside, his body beginning to relax against Kris’s shoulder, and he knew that exhaustion was about to take him.

 

_Good. He needs rest more than anything right now…_

 

“I should go… find out what’s going on…” Adam’s voice was a sleepy, reluctant mumble, barely distinguishable against Kris’s shoulder. He sounded utterly miserable at the prospect. “I need… I need to know, but…”

 

“No,” Kris cut him off gently, shaking his head. “Why don’t you let me take care of that, all right? You just get some rest, and I’ll find out what’s going on with Michael, and… and everything… and then I’ll come back here and stay with you. You just try not to worry about it for now, and if there are any developments, I’ll come let you know. Okay?”

 

Adam was quiet for a moment, not responding, and Kris could sense his hesitation in the way he tensed slightly against him – and then, his surrender, as he allowed himself to relax and accept what Kris was offering. Kris knew how hard it was for Adam to give up his self-assigned role of protector and nurturer and simply let _himself_ be taken care of for a change.

 

“Okay,” Adam whispered at last, nodding against Kris’s shoulder. “Okay… that sounds great, actually,” he admitted gratefully. “Thanks, Kris.”

 

“No problem,” Kris assured him, pulling back slightly as Adam finally met his gaze. “You’re my friend, Adam. I know you’d do the same for me.”

 

Adam looked away, self-conscious, and Kris cleared his throat, feeling suddenly awkward and uncertain. After a moment, he added, “Is there… is there anything else you’d like me to take care of for you while I’m out there? Anybody you want me to… to call, or…?”

 

Adam stared down at the blankets for a long moment before looking up to meet Kris’s eyes again, the expression of apology Kris saw there making it clear even before Adam spoke that Kris was not going to like what he had to say.

 

“Could you… do you think you could… talk to Alli for me?”

 

Kris’s heart sank.

 

Adam looked away again, and his words came out in a breathless, trembling rush. “It’s just… I kinda freaked out on her earlier, and she’s… she’s probably so confused right now. She probably thinks I’m mad at her, and she has no clue what’s going on, and she _deserves_ to know, but… but I don’t think I can…”

 

“Adam.”

 

Adam’s pleading, desperate ramblings fell silent, and he bit his lower lip, looking up at Kris uncertainly.

 

“It’s all right,” Kris assured him – though it felt anything but all right. Kris could hardly imagine having to face Allison and explain to her what had happened to Adam – but he could imagine even less forcing Adam to explain it himself. He knew that it would hurt – but he also knew that it was what Adam needed, and he would do it, no matter how much he hated the idea. “I’ll talk to her, Adam. Don’t worry about it. It’s no problem.” He paused, bracing himself for the worst as he added, “Anything else?”

 

To Kris’s relief, Adam just shook his head, listless and subdued, before leaning forward to rest his head on Kris’s shoulder again, wrapping him up in a tight, almost desperate embrace.

 

“_Thank you_,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “Kris… I don’t know what I’d do…”

 

“Adam,” Kris cut him off softly. “_Really_. Whatever you need.”

 

Kris finally, gently disentangled himself from Adam’s arms, picking up the key card from the night stand and silently holding it up, making sure that Adam had seen him take it. Adam simply nodded in quiet assent, watching as Kris headed toward the door.

 

“Hey,” he called softly, just before Kris opened it. “Could you… could you get me my phone off the table, there? I… I need to make a couple of calls.”

 

Kris picked up the phone and tossed it carefully, underhand, to Adam, who caught it easily, offering a weak, shaky smile of gratitude before turning his attention to the phone and scrolling through the numbers. Kris went out into the hall, closing the door quietly behind him, checking the handle to make sure that it was locked in a protective gesture that he knew was utterly unnecessary. He paused for a moment when he heard the soft, muffled sound of Adam’s voice from the other side of the door.

 

“H-hello?” There was a brief pause, then, softer, “… Mom?”

 

The soft, aching sob that followed Adam’s words tore at Kris’s heart, and fresh tears sprang to his eyes – but he pushed them back as he headed toward Michael’s room. He had important business to take care of for Adam, and he couldn’t afford to let his emotions go – not just yet.

 

When Kris reached Michael’s room, Michael was no longer there.

 

Amy was, seated at the small round table across the room, staring off into space with wide, shell-shocked eyes, while the only other remaining official in the room stood talking to a police officer. When she saw him enter, Amy looked up, a hopeful, anxious expression on her face as she rose quickly and made her way across the room to him.

 

“Where’s Michael?” Kris asked without giving her time to speak. “Did they arrest him?”

 

“Not… not yet.” Amy shook her head. “They took him down to the police station to get a full, official statement. He… he confessed, but… they can’t file any formal charges until they talk to Adam.” Amy swallowed hard, her eyes troubled. “How… how is he? Is he okay?”

 

Kris raised a single eyebrow, taking in the guilty shifting of her eyes, the unusually timid tone of her voice, and wondering at what her part was in all of this. “He’s… dealing,” he replied at last, cautiously. “I guess he’s as okay as can be expected, given the circumstances, but… but he’s too upset to talk right now. He’s still in shock that this is all out in the open at all. They’ll just have to try to talk to him in the morning, if he’s up to it.”

 

He expected at least a token protest, but Amy just nodded in subdued acceptance.

 

“They… they’ll need to, as soon as they can,” she pointed out with a regretful grimace. “I don’t think they know what to do with Michael until that point. I’m not sure they even know _where_ he’s going to be charged, once charges are filed. Most likely in Illinois. That’s… where… where it happened… but… they can’t file any charges at all until they have Adam’s statement.”

 

Kris felt his chest tighten with a sense of helpless, frustrated anger, as he thought about what that would mean for Adam – after everything else he’d already been through.

 

“So… you’re saying he really doesn’t have a choice about this,” he observed, his voice clipped and taut. “That… after everything else that’s happened to him… every other choice that’s been _taken_ from him – he’s going to be forced to sit in front of a bunch of _strangers_ and _tell_ them all about it, too?”  

 

“I’m _so sorry_…” Amy actually sounded sincere, as if she was somehow placing the blame for the entire situation on her own shoulders. “He shouldn’t have to go through that. Shouldn’t have to go through _any_ of this. But… if Michael’s going to be punished for what he did, then… then he’s going to _have_ to…” She winced as she spoke the words, looking away, before letting out a shaky sigh and running a nervous hand through her hair, adding, “God, I hope Adam’s going to be okay…”

 

Kris’s suspicions were further aroused by every moment he spent in Amy’s presence, and he felt an admittedly unreasonable anger rising up in him as he retorted defensively, “Well, he probably won’t want to finish the tour, if that’s what you’re worried about…”

 

“It’s not!” Amy insisted, shaking her head. “No, _forget_ the tour. None of you will be finishing at this point, probably. This is too… too huge. Too _awful_. No one could possibly expect Adam to go on with it after this, no matter what _anyone’s_ contract says. No, I’m… I’m pretty sure the rest of the dates will be cancelled.”

 

Kris studied her face a moment longer, noting that she seemed to be on the verge of tears, no longer concerned with things like publicity and spin and how the actions of the Idols might affect her personal reputation. In fact, the girl seemed to be falling apart before his eyes, eaten up with guilt and regret over… _something_.

 

“What happened?” he asked her, direct and subtly forceful, eyes narrowed slightly but unrelenting on hers.

 

Amy bit her lip, which was visibly trembling, her eyes welling with tears as she shook her head. “I… I had no idea. He… he told me it was just a… a one-night stand that got a little too rough. He _insisted_ that it was totally consensual, but… but he was bleeding… pretty badly, so… I took him to the ER and got him patched up, and got him a prescription for pain meds, and… God, I should have _known_ something was seriously wrong, because he went through the whole bottle in like, two weeks. I told him that the second bottle was the last one, period, but… but that’s the one he used to try to… to…”

 

She lowered her head, raising her hands to cover her face for a moment, swiping at her tears before looking up at him again, sorrow and defeat in her eyes.

 

“I should have seen this coming. I should have… should have _known_…”

 

After fitting together the missing pieces she’d just supplied to the story Adam had told him, Kris felt a sense of disgusted irritation with her, and the way she’d so easily accepted Adam’s story, the way she’d taken the easy way out by providing him with pain medication he shouldn’t have had, and choosing to keep quiet when speaking up might have saved him so much pain.

 

But the disgust he felt toward Amy was only a fraction of what he felt when he thought of his own voluntary blindness when it came to how much danger Adam had really been in. When at last he spoke, his words were soft, almost sympathetic, and heavy with the defeat of his own failure.

 

“We _all _should have known. Maybe… maybe we could have stopped things from getting this far.”

 

Kris reached out to place a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder for a moment before turning and heading back down the hall toward Allison’s room. His mouth was dry, his palms damp, his stomach performing some rather impressive somersaults, as he braced himself for the conversation he really did not want to have – but he knew that Adam was right.

 

Allison deserved some answers.

 

When she opened the door to her room, her eyes lit up with hope and relief, though they could not quite disguise the underlying fear they held, as she stepped back to allow him to come in.

 

“Kris, thank God,” she sighed, hugging him tight before pulling back to look him in the eyes, her gaze anxious and appraising. “Kris… what’s going on? Is Adam okay?”


	13. Chapter 13

Allison’s trusting, innocent eyes staring hopefully up at him, desperate for reassurance – but more than that, for _answers_ – was almost more than Kris could take.

 

A very strong part of him – and yet, the _weakest_ part of him – wanted nothing more than to turn and flee back to the safety of his own hotel room, to lock himself in and go to sleep and shut out the nightmare reality that he’d just discovered – the nightmare reality that he was now, somehow, expected to relay to Allison.

 

“Kris?” Allison frowned, clearly worried by whatever she saw on his face. She took a hesitant step backward to allow him entrance. “Come on. Come in here and talk to me.”

 

_I can’t. Oh, God, I can’t do this…_

 

But then, Kris’s traitorous mind conjured up the even more troubling image of _Adam_ struggling to explain all of this to Allison, struggling with his shame and humiliation – or some stranger coldly informing her of what had happened, awkwardly trying to comfort her when she inevitably broke down upon hearing the news.

 

Kris honestly wasn’t sure which scenario was worse – only that he couldn’t let either happen.

 

“Kris?”

 

“Yeah. Um… sorry, Alli.” Kris walked into her room, closing the door quietly behind him, drawing in a deep breath before turning again to face her. “Let’s sit down, okay? This is kind of… kind of bad. Kind of _really_ bad. I think… you’ll want to be sitting down.”

 

Allison bit her lip anxiously, hesitating a moment before reluctantly going to obey and sit down on the edge of her bed – but she was nothing even remotely resembling relaxed, one foot tapping impatiently, her hands alternatingly clasped together and fidgeting on her lap. Kris slowly went to sit down beside her, reaching out a hand to cover both of hers, momentarily stilling them, and she looked up at him with obvious dread of what he would say.

 

“Kris, what happened?” she pleaded, her voice trembling, her eyes brimming with tears. “What’s wrong with Adam?” She hesitated before adding, “Is he… is he mad at us? Did we _do_ something?”

 

“No,” he assured her, shaking his head and squeezing her hand. “No, we didn’t do anything…”

 

_And that’s part of the problem…_

 

“Allison… a couple of weeks ago…” Kris tried to steady his breathing, looking away but not letting go of her hand. “… something… something bad happened to Adam. Someone… hurt him.”

 

Kris couldn’t make himself elaborate on the vague truth he’d revealed, but Allison was far from satisfied.

 

“What are you talking about?” she demanded after a few moments of tense silence. “Hurt him, how? Kris, _tell _me!”

 

Kris closed his eyes, his lips parted to speak, but for a long moment he couldn’t seem to make any words come out.

 

_Just tell her. Just say it. Get past the hard part, and then... then you’ll be okay…_

 

_Except… that’s not really the hard part, is it? Telling her that Adam was raped is bad, yeah, but it’s nothing compared to telling her that someone she’s trusted, someone she’s thought of as a friend, is the one that did it…_

_‘Get past the hard part’? Yeah, scratch that._

_It’s _all _‘hard part’._

“Alli...” Kris turned to face her, steeling himself for her reaction, holding both of her hands in his and meeting her eyes as he forced the words past his lips. “Adam was… Adam was raped.”

 

Allison’s face went pale, her eyes wide and horrified as she stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, before slowly shaking her head. “No… _no_…”

 

“_Yes_, Alli,” Kris gently, sorrowfully confirmed. “That’s why he’s been so… so distant and weird lately. It’s why… it’s why he tried to… to kill himself.” Kris’s voice broke over the words, and he swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his composure as he went on. “Because he’s been dealing with this… or _not_ dealing with this, or whatever… all on his own, trying to keep it a secret from everybody…”

 

“But _why_?” Allison’s voice was surprisingly strong, though her face was streaked with tears, and for the first time Kris found himself wondering how much of the story she’d already put together before he got there. “Why didn’t he _tell_ anyone? Get the bastard that did it locked up?” She frowned, shaking her head in confusion. “How did anybody even _get_ to him, Kris? With our security and all? What happened?”

 

Kris looked away again, trying to decide how much and how quickly to tell her, or if she really even needed to know the _whole_ truth, at all – but he already knew the answer to that, no matter how badly he wanted to escape it.

 

_If you don’t, she’ll see it on the news soon enough…_

 

“Adam and some of the guys went to the hotel bar in Illinois,” he began, his words slow and cautious, staring down at their joined hands. “There was… this guy that… put something in his drink, and… and tried to take him up to his room…”

 

Kris paused, struggling to find the strength to go on, desperately wishing that he could leave the story at that, and allow her to draw her own conclusions.

 

“_Tried_ to?”

 

No such luck.

 

Kris swallowed hard, his mouth dry, as he turned to face her again, watching her face carefully as he went on. “The other guys had gone back to their rooms by then. Michael was the only one still down there with Adam, and… and he saw what was going on. He… he chased the guy off and… and helped Adam get upstairs.”

 

Allison’s confused frown deepened at those words. “Then… how…?”

 

“Michael took Adam to his own room instead of to Adam’s. Adam was really out of it,” Kris forced himself to go on. “And, in the morning when he woke up, Adam was… really confused about what happened the night before, and… he and Michael got into a fight…”

 

Allison’s expression was guarded now, as she stared at Kris with stricken eyes, visibly struggling to put the pieces together. Kris almost wished that she would, so he wouldn’t have to spell it out for her, but it was a difficult conclusion to accept; he still didn’t want to accept it, himself.

 

“He accused Michael of… taking advantage of him, and… Michael got really mad… and really violent, and… Alli…”

 

“No.” Allison shook her head, her lower lip quivering as fresh tears streaked her face. “No, Kris…”

 

“Michael hurt Adam, Alli,” Kris whispered, his voice trembling with regret as he raised a hand to gently push her hair back from her face in a gesture that he hoped was soothing and reassuring. “He… he’s the one that… that did it. That’s why Adam didn’t… Adam didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t feel like he could tell anyone…”

 

“Why would _Michael_…?” There was such agonized disbelief on Allison’s face that it brought tears to Kris’s eyes. “Why would he… I thought he was Adam’s _friend_!”

 

“So did I.” Kris nodded sadly, looking away and swallowing hard before adding softly, “So did _Adam_.”

 

Allison was quiet for a few moments, and Kris looked up at her face again, trying to gauge her reaction. He watched as confusion and disbelief slowly faded, leaving in their place a swiftly mounting fury. Her dark eyes blazed, glittering with tears, as she abruptly stood up and turned toward the door.

 

“I’ll kill him,” she hissed. “How could he… how _dare_ he do something like that to Adam, and then just… pretend like nothing happened, and go on with tour and _sleep_ on the fuckin’ _bus_ with Adam _every night_ as if…”

 

“Alli…” Kris stood up hastily, catching her arms and turning her to face him before she could head for the door. “Alli, wait a second. He’s not even here anymore, okay? They took him to the police station. He… he turned himself in.”

 

“What, like that makes it _better_?”

 

Allison fairly spat out the words, jerking away in frustration from Kris’s gently restraining hands. Her anger abruptly gave way to tears, her shoulders shaking with sobs as she raised her hands to cover her face. Kris cautiously reached out to her again, gently taking her arms and pulling her closer to him, then wrapping his arms around her and holding her while she cried.

 

“Shh… I know, Alli… I know…”

 

After a few moments Allison pulled away, heading toward the door again. “I need to talk to Adam. He needs…”

 

“Wait, no,” Kris caught her arm again to stop her. “Adam wouldn’t want you to…”

 

“Adam needs to stop trying to be so fuckin’ strong for everybody else and just let his friends be there for him!” Allison snapped in frustration.

 

“No, what Adam needs right now,” Kris countered, his voice instantly becoming stern and warning, his grip on her arm still gentle but firm enough to keep her from pulling away, “is for you to _let_ him be strong, okay?”

 

When she frowned, shaking her head in confusion, Kris softened as he explained.

 

“He’s so frustrated right now, Alli. We are too, I know. But… he feels so… powerless, and… and vulnerable. He’s had all his power stripped away, two weeks ago – and again today, when Michael told everybody about it – and he couldn’t protect himself from any of that.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in before adding, “He can still protect _you_, from seeing what this has done to him – and you have to let him, Alli. You _have_ to.”

 

Allison stared at him for a long moment, and Kris was relieved to see understanding dawning in her eyes, as she began to calm down enough to process his words. Her shoulders fell with defeat, and she leaned forward, resting her head against Kris’s chest as the tears began to flow again.

 

Kris just held her close and let her cry.

 

*********************************************

 

Adam hung up the phone, feeling strangely numb and quiet inside.

 

He was vaguely aware that he should have been proud of himself, for holding it together as well as he had on the phone with his mother. Oh, he’d broken down at first, at the simple, familiar comfort of the sound of her voice, and she’d been alarmed to hear him crying – but he’d managed to compose himself fairly quickly, and then to tell her what had happened, miraculously, without breaking down again.

 

In fact, after the initial shock passed enough for her to let his words sink in, Adam had ended up being the one to comfort _her_.

 

Once she’d calmed down enough to be rational, she’d talked about booking a flight, and being there by the morning, and though Adam could think of nothing he’d like better at that moment than being in his mother’s arms and just letting her hold him, he talked her out of it, assuring her that he’d be home very soon, and to just wait for him there.

 

After hanging up the phone, Adam lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, not bothering to undress or even turn the lights off. He wasn’t sure that he could have slept anyway; he just wanted to try not to _think_ for a while.

 

A quiet knock on the door made his heart clench, and Adam sat up, wide, frightened eyes locked on the door, even as he mentally berated himself for his weakness.

 

_Michael’s turned himself in. There’s no way that’s him. Stop being such a moron. You’re safe, you’re safe, it’s not him…_

 

“Adam? It’s me… are you awake?”

 

Kris’s quiet voice from beyond the door confirmed his thoughts, and Adam felt his body begin to tremble with the release of his fearful tension. He lowered his head into his hands for a moment, drawing in deep, shaky breaths as he struggled to calm down. Despite his relief, however, the idea of having another conversation with anyone right now – even Kris – made him feel sick to his stomach.

 

Adam grabbed his earbuds from the nightstand and put them in without bothering to turn on the music, then quickly turned off the light and lay down on the bed, closing his eyes. With any luck, Kris would think he was asleep and leave him alone.

 

Adam heard the quiet click of his key card in the door, followed by the door opening and closing. Soft footsteps crossed the carpet, then stopped close to the bed. Adam kept his eyes closed, but he could sense Kris’s attention, knew he was looking at him.

 

_Just go… just go back to your own room and leave me alone, please…_

 

Kris’s footsteps drew closer, and Adam felt the slight depression of the mattress as Kris carefully sat down on the side of it.

 

_No, just go away, Kris, please… just let me not think about it… let me ignore everything for a little while…_

 

Adam had actually expected more, so the firm, gentle pressure of Kris’s hand on his arm did not catch him off guard. Kris didn’t speak, didn’t attempt to wake him – just gently squeezed his arm. It was a _knowing_ gesture, and Adam suddenly knew beyond any doubt that he was not fooling Kris for a second.

 

Kris knew he was awake, knew he was faking, and wanted Adam to _know_ that he knew – but he wasn’t pushing, wasn’t insisting that they have a conversation about it, or that Adam open up to him about his _feelings _– which was a relief, considering that Adam had no idea how to even begin to put into words _what _he was feeling.

 

No, all Kris seemed to want was to let Adam know that he was there.

 

Before Adam knew it was going to happen, hot tears spilled from his eyes again, and his shoulders began to quake. Ashamed, defeated, Adam raised one hand to cover his face as quiet, keening sobs escaped his lips.

 

Kris didn’t hesitate. The next thing Adam knew, Kris’s smaller body was practically wrapped around his. Surprisingly strong arms held him close, and Kris’s head rested on Adam’s shoulder, as Kris murmured soft, soothing words that Adam drank in with grateful relief.

 

“I’m here, Adam. I’m right here… and I’m not going anywhere.”


	14. Chapter 14

Adam’s heart was racing, his palms damp, as he and Kris made their way up the steps leading to the police station the following morning. The very thought of the memories coursing through his mind, so much clearer and more vivid due to Michael’s actions of the day before, made him feel sick. The idea of telling a bunch of complete strangers about what had been done to him, in agonizing detail, made him feel like running in the opposite direction and hiding until everyone else in the entire world had forgotten all about the scandal that would certainly result from this whole affair.

 

_Of course… that could be a while…_

Something in Adam’s chest seemed to tighten, constricting with a familiar sinking feeling of panic – the same sense of panic that had driven him, only days earlier, to down an entire bottle of prescription pain killers. He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his stomach uneasy with a hollow, empty feeling of fear.

_No, can’t let yourself go there… can’t think that way. _

He glanced at Kris, feeling a certain measure of reassurance at his quiet, solid strength beside him.

 

_Can’t… can’t do that to them again…_

 

The fact that their entrance was not trailed by a horde of yelling paparazzi, flashing cameras in their faces, was at least a slight relief. It meant that the story had not yet been leaked to the press – though Adam was under no illusions that it wouldn’t be, and soon. For now, however, he was just grateful to be able to get through this ordeal without any further humiliation.

 

_No… that will come later. When Michael goes to trial… and I have to testify… and it all becomes public record at that point, and oh _God, _I don’t want to do this… I can’t… I can’t do this…_

 

“Adam…” Kris’s voice was low and soothing, drawing him out of the panicked rush of his thoughts to focus his hazy, distracted gaze on Kris’s concerned eyes. “Adam, take a breath, okay? You’re all right. You can do this.”

 

“I… I don’t know…” Adam barely recognized his own shallow, breathless voice. “Kris, I… I don’t want to…”

 

“I know.” Kris was sympathetic, but his tone left no room for argument. “I know this is hard, but you need to do it, Adam. You need to get this out, and make sure that Michael gets put away for what he did.” He paused before adding hesitantly, “That he… gets the help he needs.”

 

At the moment, Adam didn’t really _care_ what _Michael_ needed – but he knew that Kris was right.

 

_I don’t have a choice… so I might as well get this over with…_

 

As soon as they walked into the lobby of the police station, Adam was acutely aware of the level of attention that was focused on him. Conversations at a normal volume suddenly ceased, and he could hear hushed whispers around him, though no one he looked at directly appeared to be saying anything.

 

He could feel his face flush with embarrassment as he made his way to the counter and spoke to the dispatcher, introducing himself and asking for the detective whose name was on the card he’d been given – though it was obvious from her wide-eyed expression that the introduction was wholly unnecessary.

 

“Hi. I’m Adam Lambert. I need to give my statement to a Detective Porter?”

 

“Of course, just a moment, Mr. Lambert,” the dispatcher replied, seeming nervous and flustered in a way that Adam was fairly well used to by this point.

 

Of course, at the moment, he felt nothing resembling the poised, easy confidence he tried so hard to portray on the stage and meeting fans after shows. He didn’t feel confident, or sexy, or even remotely attractive; and for the first time in his life, he wished for _less_ of the attention in the room to be focused on him.

 

Only a couple of minutes passed before an older man with thick salt-and-pepper hair and a friendly, disarming smile appeared, extending his hand to Adam in greeting.

 

“Adam? I’m Dan Porter. Come on, I’ll show you to my office so we can talk.” He turned toward Kris, extending a handshake to him as well. “You’re welcome to wait here while I talk with your friend. Would you like some coffee or something while you wait?”

 

“No,” Adam objected, hating the slight tremor in his voice, but unable to help it when faced with the prospect of going through this alone. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving my statement without him there.”

 

Detective Porter frowned slightly, but the expression seemed to indicate more confusion than disapproval. Adam glanced down at the floor, suddenly feeling acutely self-conscious, swallowing hard before looking up to meet the man’s eyes again as he confessed softly,

 

“I… I’m not sure I _can_.”

 

Detective Porter’s expression softened with sympathy, and he nodded. “That will be fine. Right this way, gentlemen.”

 

Adam and Kris followed him to his office, where he closed the door and sat down behind his desk, gesturing for them to take the two seats across from him. “All right, Adam,” he began. “Take your time, and tell me in your own words what happened two weeks ago, in Illinois.”

 

Adam glanced at Kris, who gave him a slow, reassuring nod. The smile on his lips was clearly forced, and there was uncertainty in his eyes – but there was no mistaking the unconditional love and support that was also there. Kris had already heard it all – and it hadn’t changed their friendship in the slightest.

 

If anything, it had made it stronger.

 

_Okay... I can do this. He’s right here beside me, and… and I can do this._

 

Adam squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and began.

 

********************************************

 

“So… he was officially arrested this afternoon, based on Adam’s statement and his own confession. They’re extraditing him to Illinois, and that’s where the charges will be filed, because that’s where it happened.”

 

Kris paced slowly back and forth across his hotel room floor, his cell phone pressed against his ear as he recounted the events of the past few hours for his wife. Adam had offered permission, without Kris even asking, to tell Katy whatever he thought was best. After all, it wasn’t as if Adam was going to be able to keep much about this entire situation secret from _anyone_ for long.

 

And Kris tried not to dwell on that thought, because the idea made him feel a little bit nauseous.

 

“So… Adam will have to go there to testify, whenever the trial is?” Katy guessed. “That sounds pretty inconvenient. And stressful. And potentially traumatic.” She sighed, and her genuine concern was clear in her voice as she added quietly, “Poor Adam.”

 

“I know.” Kris didn’t bother trying to hide his glum mood.

 

“You did tell him we love him, and we’re here for him no matter what, right?”

 

Katy sounded anxious and a little frustrated, and Kris knew her well enough to know that she hated being so far away, and would have loved to be able to give Adam a big hug and tell him those things for herself. Suddenly, Kris really wanted to be with his wife, to be able to put his arms around her and hold her close and take comfort in the knowledge that she understood without being told exactly what he was feeling.

 

“I did,” he assured her with affection in his voice. “Multiple times.”

 

“Good,” she sighed. “I just _hate_ that he’s going through this…”

 

“Me, too. Hey, babe, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about. And… if you don’t like it, just tell me. I won’t do it if you don’t want me, too, but…”

 

“What, Kris? Just tell me.”

 

Kris hesitated, trying to think of the best way to phrase his proposal, before launching into his explanation.

 

“Well, the tour officials called me and Adam aside today – pretty much just because Adam’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to be separated from me very much at all lately – and let us know that they were informing us before anyone else that… well, the tour’s over as of now. There was only about a week and a half left, and they’ve cancelled those dates. It wouldn’t be fair to expect Adam to go on with the tour, after everything he’s been through, and is _still _going through, regardless of his contract…”

 

“Of course not,” Katy scoffed, a protective note to her voice. “I don’t care _what_ his contract says. No court in the world would hold him to it under _these_ circumstances.”

 

“Right. And… Adam’s really in a… a fragile place right now. He wanted me with him when he gave his statement, and when the tour officials were talking to us. He just… he’s really feeling insecure right now, and… well, the only reason I’m even here in my own room right now is because he’s asleep.”

 

Kris’s eyes automatically fell to rest on the key card sitting on the night stand – the one he would use to return to Adam’s room in a little while, in time to be there when he woke up.

 

“And… I know his family loves him a lot, and I know they’ll be really supportive, but… I still think it’s going to be hard for him, going back, and maybe it’d be good to have someone there who can help with the hard conversations – the answers to their questions, things like that…”

 

“Yes.”

 

“… and I wasn’t going to be home for another week and a half, if the tour had gone on…” Kris was halfway through the next point of his argument when he realized that there wasn’t going to _be_ any argument. “Wait, what?”

 

“Go home with Adam. Spend the rest of the time you two would have been touring, together, and help him get adjusted and all,” Katy advised. “I miss you, baby, I miss you so much, but… but as much as I hate to admit it…” Katy sighed, “… he _needs _you more than I do right now.”

 

Kris’s eyes welled with grateful tears, and once again he desperately wished that he could just hold his wife. “You’re amazing, babe,” he said softly. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too,” she replied. “Now go check on Adam, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 

******************************************

 

Once Kris assured Adam that Katy was totally okay with the arrangement, had all but come up with it herself, and that it was what Kris really _wanted_ to do, Adam was incredibly grateful and relieved that Kris was going home with him.

 

He was looking forward to seeing his family, and being at home among familiar surroundings for more than a day or two, for the first time in over a year. He was eager to see his mom, and have her comforting arms around him, and for just a moment or two feel completely _safe_ and whole and _normal_ again.

 

What he wasn’t looking forward to was explaining the details to his family – probably more than once, and in far greater detail than he wanted to go into. He was grateful to Kris for being willing to go along and act as a buffer, to help deal with the unpleasant details that Adam would rather not think about right now. He tried not to think about it, tried not to think about anything at all, during the rest of their time at the hotel, and the flight home – and Kris did his best to make that possible, keeping Adam distracted as much as he could.

 

For nearly a week after their arrival, Adam did nothing but eat and sleep and hang around his mother’s house, trying to make up for the two long, harrowing weeks in which he’d barely slept, barely eaten, and been in a constant state of confusion and fear. It felt good to be able to rest when he wanted to, do what he wanted to, with no demands on his time or attention.

 

Still, one looming detail lingered in the back of his mind, making him uneasy every time he remembered: they had yet to hear from the prosecutor’s office in Illinois, to let them know what the official charges were, and when the trial date would be.

 

And when they found _that_ out – that’s when Adam knew that all hell would break loose.

 

The identity of victims of sexual crime was legally protected, but not the identity of the perpetrators. Adam knew that as soon as the charges were filed, Michael’s previously unknown name would be slapped all over every publication – reputable and otherwise – in the country.

 

And it wouldn’t take long from there for most people to put the pieces together.

 

Still, all of that would only be assumptions and suppositions with no real official basis. No one would be able to prove that he was the one Michael had assaulted – until the trial, when he had to testify in court in front of cameras, and reporters, and anyone else the judge decided to allow in the room. Adam was not naïve enough to think that out of all those people, not one would let his name leak.

 

The trial – that was the thing that would give him closure, but it was also the thing he dreaded most of all.

 

When his phone finally rang, an unfamiliar number with an Illinois area code on the caller ID, Adam almost couldn’t bring himself to answer it. Finally, though, he forced himself to press the green button and hold it to his ear, barely managing to choke out a hoarse whisper.

 

“H-hello?”

 

“Adam? This is Kristen with the prosecutor’s office. I’m calling to let you know that the charges have been formally filed against Michael Sarver in your case.”

 

Adam swallowed hard. “And…?”

 

“One count of first degree rape, with an accompanying charge of first degree assault and battery. He’s entered a guilty plea to all charges, so there won’t be a trial.”

 

She said some other things after that, about sentencing dates and minimums and maximums and prison security levels – but Adam barely heard any of it. He managed to make brief but appropriate responses, and then to thank her, before hanging up the phone – but his mind was still stuck back on the first few things she’d said.

 

_Guilty plea… no trial… _

_I won’t have to talk about it in front of people… won’t have to worry and wonder about whether or not they’re going to believe me, or whether or not he’s going to lie about me, or how it’s all going to turn out…_

_He’s going to prison. He’s going to pay for what he did to me._

Adam’s first clue that he had utterly and completely broken down was Kris and his mom rushing toward him, alarmed and concerned, both reaching out at once to touch him, soothe him, put their arms around him. He was barely aware as someone helped him to sit down at the kitchen table, barely aware of their clamoring questions asked all at once, unheard past the sound of his own aching sobs.

 

But what he didn’t have the composure to explain to them was that these were tears of gratitude, of the tremendous relief of the weight he’d been carrying for the past several weeks. It was really over, and he could know that he was safe – and he wasn’t going to have to suffer the humiliation and indignity of going through his violation yet again, in front of a room full of strangers.

 

_Which means… maybe no one will find out for sure. Maybe it will all blow over so much faster. Maybe I can actually start to feel_ safe _again…_

_Maybe… just _maybe… _I’ll actually get through this all right after all._


	15. Chapter 15

Adam kept his pace swift and measured, his head held high as he followed the uniformed guard down the dull grey hallway. He tried to focus on keeping his breathing steady and calm, his fingernails biting into his damp palms as he struggled to keep his nerves at bay. He felt sick and shaky and a little light-headed, and only one thought kept cycling through his mind as he made his way toward the room at the end of the hall.

 

_I don’t want to do this… God, I_ don’t _want to do this…_

 

The guard stopped outside a wide iron door, turning to face Adam with a serious, almost warning expression on his face.

 

“This visitation room is the most private one we have. There are security cameras inside, but no audio surveillance – so we’ll be able to monitor the situation to make sure that you’re safe, but your conversation will be private,” the guard explained. “Sarver’s cuffed, anyway. The cuffs are attached to the edge of the table, and the table’s bolted to the floor – so there’s no way you’ll be in any danger. But… if for any reason you decide you want the visit to be over, just get up and come to the door. I’ll be right here the entire time, and I’ll open it immediately if there’s any problem.”

 

Adam nodded silently, biting his lower lip as he struggled to keep his nerves at bay. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, steadying himself for the first encounter he’d had with Michael since he’d found out that Michael had turned himself in.

 

He was prepared for this. He and his therapist had planned it and discussed it in detail – what he needed to say, what he hoped to hear in return, how he wanted to present himself – and Adam had gone over and over every possible scenario, both mentally and verbally.

 

Adam was wearing a simple, stylish black suit with a black button-down shirt with thin silver pin stripes. His make-up and hair were both flawless. All his shields were in place, and Adam finally felt that he was ready.

 

Until the moment when it was time to walk through that door.

 

_Just do it. Just… go in there and say what you need to say and get it done. _

Adam swallowed hard, forcing himself to step forward as the guard unfastened the locks, and the heavy iron door swung open with a loud, ominous creak.

_Just… get it over with, so you can move on with your life._

 

Adam stepped through the doorway into the grim, grey room, his gaze focused on the floor, if only to avoid for just a few seconds longer the sight of the person he’d spent the last year trying to forget.

 

Michael was seated on the other side of a narrow table. His wrists were attached to the table by a set of handcuffs threaded through a metal ring on its edge; there was clearly no way that he could touch Adam if he’d wanted to, and Adam was fairly certain that he _didn’t _want to – and still, Adam could barely bring himself to _look_ at the man.

 

_Except… if you don’t, then what’s the point? You can’t let him keep getting to you, even locked away in prison where he can’t hurt anyone. You have to do this, Adam… you have to_ face _him…_

 

Adam put off the inevitable just a few moments longer as he slowly took the seat across from Michael. Then, with a supreme effort of will, he finally managed to lift his gaze from the smooth grey of the table top and focus on Michael’s face.

 

It was strangely satisfying to see that Michael hadn’t had the opportunity to notice Adam’s hesitation and anxiety – mostly because he was staring down at his hands, his face pale and nervous, his eyes wide and almost frightened.

 

_Good._ Adam felt a rush of justified anger flood him at that realization. _He should be. He_ deserves _to be scared… as scared as he made me…_

 

“So…” Michael was the first to break the thick, heavy silence that had fallen between them, though his voice was trembling, weak and uncertain, and he still seemed to lack the courage to meet Adam’s eyes. “… I… I was really shocked when my attorney said you wanted to see me. Shocked, but… but kind of glad…”

 

“Well, don’t be,” Adam cut him off sharply, feeling a cold sense of satisfaction when Michael flinched at the venom in his tone. “Because I _don’t _want to see you. I’m only here because my therapist said it was a good idea for me to confront you – to face you, and… and what you did to me.” Adam was quiet for a moment, swallowing hard, struggling to maintain his composure, before going on in a voice that was softer, but still unyielding as iron. “I… don’t really care how you feel about the fact that I’m here. There’s just some things that I need to say, and I need you to hear, and it’s taken me the last year just to get to the point where I could even _think_ about _looking_ at you without panicking – or vomiting – so you just need to shut the fuck up and let me say them.”

 

Michael’s eyes darted up to meet Adam’s for just a moment, his face pale and stricken, before he stared down at the table again. He was quiet and still for a long moment, before he nodded shakily, barely breathing out a single word in response.

 

“O-okay.”

 

Adam was quiet for a moment, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly as he tried to focus his thoughts, to bring them back from the anger and turmoil that had nearly overwhelmed him for a moment. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to look at Michael again as he went on.

 

“You have _no idea_ of the damage you did. That… that night, and… and with _every single_ decision you made from that point on.”

 

Michael looked up sharply with a frown, lips parted to object, shaking his head in indignation – and the very _idea_ filled Adam with fresh fury.

 

“_Don’t_,” he warned sharply. “Just… don’t try to tell me how turning yourself in was for my benefit, and how you tried to make it right – because what you did is not something that it’s _possible_ to make right – _ever_.”

 

Michael’s gaze faltered down to the table again, and Adam’s followed it – but he did feel a little calmer with Michael’s silent acceptance of the harsh truth he’d spoken. He hesitated a moment before going on, a wary half-acknowledgment of Michael’s unspoken objections in the slight nod of his head.

 

“At first… I was glad that there wasn’t going to be any trial. That meant… less public exposure. It meant that even though the press could make their speculations, there wasn’t anything that could officially tie your story to me. I was… glad. Even _grateful_… for a little while. And then…” Adam shrugged slightly, looking up at Michael again. “…then, I was just… pissed off.”

 

Michael just watched him, a silent question in his eyes.

 

“You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t have made me have to feel _grateful_ for _anything_ after what you did. You shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have made me do or feel anything, but… from the moment you did what you did to me… nothing in this entire situation was in any way within my control.” Adam swallowed hard, struggling to keep his soft, measured words steady as he concluded, “You managed to take _everything_ from me, Michael – even my right to decide who got to know about what happened.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to take anything from you, Adam… not by turning myself in,” Michael objected, his face stricken, his voice trembling with emotion. “I did that because I was really and truly…”

 

“Don’t say it,” Adam warned him, his voice somehow sharp and soft at the same time. “It means _nothing_, don’t you get that? You try to play yourself up to be some kind of noble tragedy – a good man who made a mistake, pleading guilty because you know you deserve to pay for your crimes and to do what’s best for everyone and all that – but you know as well as I do that all you were really doing was trying to spare yourself some time by making a deal…”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

Something in Michael’s quiet, certain tone made Adam pause. He gave the other man a skeptical, challenging look, but waited for him to go on.

 

“They… they offered me a deal in exchange for a guilty plea,” Michael explained. “But I refused it. I said… I wanted to plead guilty, but… I wanted the same sentence I’d have received if we’d gone to trial.” Michael paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in, before going on softly, his gaze distant with memory. “My attorney said I was crazy. ‘You have a family, Michael. What’s wrong with you? Why would you do this to them?’” A soft, sad smile passed over Michael’s lips as he looked up to meet Adam’s eyes. “I told her I was doing this _for_ them. That… my family deserves better. If I’m… if I’m capable of doing something like… like what I did to you, then… then they’re better off if I’m not around.”

 

Adam was momentarily stunned to silence as he processed what Michael had told him, trying to reconcile it with the mental image of the man that had developed over the past year – with the horrific memories that still remained so vivid in his mind. It didn’t make sense, and Adam found it confusing – and infuriating.

 

“Is that supposed to make me feel _better_?” he snapped at last, his voice trembling with anger. “Is that supposed to make me _forgive_ you, or something?” He shook his head slowly, his jaw clenched with mingled resentment and pain. “Because I don’t – and I never will. I don’t feel bad for you because you got the normal sentence, because you _deserve _this…”

 

“I know.”

 

“_No one_ deserves what you did to me…”

 

“I know.”

 

“And _nothing_ can ever make up for it! I hope you _never_ get out of here!”

 

“_So do I_!”

 

Michael’s voice rose in anger and frustration, and Adam was surprised to find that he felt a sense of satisfaction, rather than fear, at the emotional reaction he’d managed to draw from the man who had once held such power over him. He drew strength from it, squaring his shoulders and glaring across the table at Michael, shaking his head in defiance.

 

“No, you don’t. You’re not that selfless.” A bitter, cold smile formed on his lips as he pointed out, “If you were, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

 

“I’d rather spend the rest of my life here than to _ever_ hurt someone again like I hurt you.”

 

“You _raped_ me.”

 

Michael looked away, nodding slowly. “I know.”

 

“Say it.” Adam didn’t even realize until the words were out of his mouth just how badly he needed to hear it aloud. “Admit what you did to me.”

 

Michael’s eyes darted up to his in stricken alarm, but he looked away quickly, struggling to get the words out in a hoarse, halting whisper.

 

“I… I raped you. And… and I will live with that every day for the rest of my life.”

 

“So will I,” Adam cut him off, his voice carrying an edge of steel. “No matter how much guilt you feel… how much you regret it now… it won’t undo it, Michael. The damage is done, and I’m _glad_ that you will have to deal with it from now on, because… I can’t get it out of my head.” His voice softened, but lost none of its strength or certainty as he went on, shaking his head slowly, blinking back the tears that stung his eyes. “I won’t be able to forget it, either, Michael. Not ever. Every time I go out with a new person, I wonder if it’s a mistake – if it’s possible to _ever_ really know who they are, or what they’re capable of. Every time I go to sleep – I know there’s at least a fifty/fifty shot that I’ll be reliving that night before I wake up. It’ll always be there for me, Michael – so I hope it’s always there for you, too.”

 

The tense silence that fell over them was thick and heavy, a tangible presence in the room – and it seemed to require a great effort on Michael’s part to finally break it. The tears that streaked his face as he spoke didn’t make Adam feel sympathy, or satisfaction; they didn’t make him feel anything. He just listened in silence as Michael ventured cautiously to speak.

 

“I… I didn’t know I was capable of so much… so much anger and hate. I never would have believed, before that night, that… anything even remotely resembling that was… inside me.” He looked up at Adam, something desperate and pleading in his eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear it. I know it doesn’t help. But I _am_ sorry, Adam. And… that’s why I want to stay here. I want to… to work through whatever it is inside me that made me capable of doing that, and… and to make sure that I never do anything like that again. Never… never ruin anyone else’s life like that…” Michael lowered his head, his shoulders shaking with silent tears.

 

After a long moment’s consideration, Adam finally replied, his words calm and composed.

 

“My life’s not… _ruined. I’m_ not ruined. I’m… dealing with what happened. Every day, a little bit more. Every day, I’m a little stronger. I… think about it a little less. Every day, it gets… easier… to go on and just… live my life, and focus on the positive things that are a part of it. And… every day…” He paused, gathering his strength to go on firmly, with dawning realization in his words, even as he spoke them. “… every day, I understand a little bit better that… it wasn’t my fault. None of it.”

 

Michael looked up at Adam with genuine sorrow and acceptance of the responsibility Adam was placing upon him, not venturing to make any arguments or excuses.

 

“The worst thing you did to me, worse even than the actual rape… was making me believe that it was my fault. That I… somehow _made_ you do it. If I hadn’t accepted a drink from a stranger… if you hadn’t had to take me to your room… if I hadn’t accused you of assaulting me the next morning… but… but none of that really matters. Because… _you’re_ the one that crossed the line. I didn’t do anything to deserve what you did to me. _Nothing_ I did could have deserved that. And… in my mind… that’s not on me anymore.”

 

For the first time since he’d entered the room, a genuine, if slightly sad, smile came over Adam’s face. His voice was soft and calm, touched with a note of vague, wondering surprise as he concluded.

 

“The blame is where it belongs now – on you. I’ve found a way to move on… to have peace in my life again.” Adam rose to his feet, glancing down for a moment before meeting Michael’s eyes for a final time. “And… maybe someday, you will too.”

 

Michael remained silent as Adam turned his back and made his way toward the door, his stride strong and purposeful. The iron door swung shut with a loud sound of finality, as Adam closed the door on a painful piece of his past, leaving it behind him as he took another step toward the peace and healing of his future.

 

No, he would not likely ever be the same again – but he was going to be okay.


End file.
